
Book. 






CROMWELL, 



AN HISTORICAL PLAY 



a, r / 



1838. 




CROMWELL. 



AN HISTORICAL PLAY 



IN FIVE ACTS. 



BY 



JAMES MATHEWS LEIGH. 



The subject's love is the king's lifeguard." 

Old Proverb. 



LONDON: 

PUBLISHED BY 

LEIGH AND SON, 421 STRAND. 



PRICE FIVE SHILLINGS. 



/ 






11 + til 

J 

lb 



London : 

PRINTED BY LEVEY, ROBSON, AND FRANKLYN, 

46 St. Martin's Lane. 



Dttitation* 



TO 



THOMAS GODFREY SAMBROOKE, ESQ. 



MY DEAR SIR, 

Your unremitting kindness to the humble author of 
" Cromwell"* has rendered it imperative on him to inscribe 
his first dramatic effort to you, as a token of respect and 
gratitude. 

Pardon him, therefore, for having without permission dedi- 
cated this Play to his most valued friend. 



JAMES MATHEWS LEIGH. 

421 Strand. 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 



Adams, Lady, Bowdon, Devon. 
Adams, Miss. 
Adams, Mr., Sydenham. 
Adams, Mr. Mayow. 
Adams, Mrs., Camden Town. 
Adams, Mr. B., Caraccas. 
Allen, Dr., Fairmead Lodge, 

Highbeach, 2 copies. 
Anderson, Mr., Frederick Place, 

Gray's Inn Road. 
Andre, Mr., New Bond Street. 
Andre, Mrs. 

Armitage, Mr., Deptford. 
Armitage, Mr. W., Union Place, 

Deptford. 
Ashley, Mrs., Strand. 
Ashley, Mr. 
Ashley, Mr. R. H. 
Atchley, Miss, Sydenham. 
Atchley, - Miss S., Holbrooke, 

Derbyshire. 
Atherton, Mrs., Calne. 
Atherton, Mr., Kington, Wilts. 

Balderson, Mr. A., Poland Street. 
Balderson, Mrs. 
Barclay, Mr. W., Brook Street. 
Barclay, Mr., Regent Street. 
Barwise, Mr., St. Martin's Lane. 
Baskerville, Mr., Calne. 
Beavan, Mr. J. P., Sackville 

Street, 4 copies. 
Beavan, Mr. H. W., Avenue 

Road, Regent's Park. 



Bent, Mr. W., Great Queen 
Street, Westminster. 

Bennett, Mr. J., Woburn Place, 
Russell Square. 

Berger, Mr. H., Hackney. 

Berry, Mr. E. U., James Street. 

Berry, Mr. C. 

Bessy, Mr., Geneva. 

Bingley, Mr., Great Marlbo- 
rough Street. 

Bingley, Mr. A., Seymour Street. 

Binstead, Mr., Victualling Yard. 

Bird, Mr. G., Edgeware Road. 

Body, Mr. J., Bayswater. 

Bovill, Mr., Milford Lane. 

Bovill, Mr. B., ditto. 

Bovill, Mr. W., Paper Buildings, 
Temple. 

Bowring, Mr., Victualling Yard. 

Brealey, Mr., Marlborough. 

Brett, Mr. H. 

Broughton, Mr., Southampton 
Street. 

Bumstead, Mr., Camberwell. 

Burkinyoung, Mr., Calcutta. 

Burrows, Mr., Demerara. 

Carlton, Mr., Somer's Town. 

Carroll, Lady. 

Carroll, Sir George. 

Casey, Mr. J. A., Great Coram 

Street. 
Chamberlain, Lady, Ramsgate, 

4 copies. 



VI 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 



Claire, Madame de St., Somer's 
Town. 

Clapham, Mr., West Strand. 

Clark, Mr. R., Lower Tooting. 

Clifford, Mr., Shadwell. 

Clowes, Mr., Parliament Street. 

Clowes, Mr. W., Stamford St. 

Cottam, Mr., Manor House, St. 
John's Wood. 

Cottam, Mrs. 

Cottam, Mr. G., Winsley St. 

Cottam, Mr. E. 

Cottam, Mr. H. 

Coe, Mr. E. O., Brook Street. 

Cotterill, Mr. E. 

Croudace, Mr. T., Guildford St. 

Cumberland, Mr., Camden Town . 

Cumming, Mr. W., Matlock, 
Bath. 

Cumming, Mr. J., Ashford, Der- 
byshire. 

Davis, Mr. J., Muscovy Court, 

2 copies. 
Dawson, Mrs., Regent Street. 
Denton, Mr., Great Coram St. 
Domeier, Dr., Welbeck Street. 
Doubleday, Mr., Pimlico. 
Duke, Sir J., M.P., Sackville St. 
Dunn, Mr., South Square, 

Gray's Inn. 
Durrant, Mr., Stock Exchange. 

Ebsworth, Mr. F., Basinghall St. 
Etty, Mr. W., R.A., Bucking- 
ham Street, Adelphi. 

Fazakerley, Miss, Warwick St. 

Fenwick, Mr., Streatham. 

Ferguson, Capt. H., Freeman's 
Court. 

Ferguson, Mr. C. A., Lee Ter- 
race, Blackheath. 



Ferguson, Mr. T., Mill Wall, 

Poplar. 
Foggo, Mr. G., Manchester St. 
Fox, Dr. C. J., Billiter Street. 
Freeman, Mr. F., Winchester. 
Freeman, Mr. C, Carey Street. 
Fuce, Miss, Bankside. 

Gallon, Mr., Greenwich, 2 copies. 
Gideon, Mr., Stafford Street, 

Lisson Grove. 
Gillham, Mr., Hackney. 
Gloag, Mr. A. C, Victualling 

Yard, Deptford. 
Goodman, Mr., Brighton. 
Grace, Mr., Gray's Inn. 
Green, Mr. C, Guildford Street. 
Grove, Mr. T. P., Wandsworth 

Road. 

Haslewood, Mr. L. H., Little 

Stanhope Street, 4 copies. 
Haines, Mrs. H., Arundel Wharf. 
Haines, Mr. G., Chelsea. 
Haines, Mr. S., Kensington. 
Haines, Mr. J. 
Harris, Mr., Croydon. 
Hemming, Mr. H., Eltham 

Place, Kennington. 
Hedges, Mr., Charles Street. 
Heraud, Mrs. 
Hill, Mr. J., York Place, City 

Road. 
Heseltine, Mr. S., jun. 
Henley, Mr., Calne. 
Hobson, Mr. C, Gordon Place, 

Tavistock Square. 
Holcomb, Mr., Ingatestone. 
Holworthy, Mr., Victualling 

Yard, Deptford. 
Holtzapffel, Mr., Long-Acre, 

2 copies. 
Hoppe, Mr. C, Blackfriars. 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 



Vll 



Hudson, Mr., Dover Street. 

Jermyn, Mr., Golden Square. 

Knapp, Mr. C, Brick Court, 
Temple. 

Laroach, Mr., Bolton Row. 
Leigh, Mrs., Marchmont Street. 
Leigh, Mrs. Jno., Soraers Town. 
Lemage, Mr., Stoke Newington, 

2 copies. 
Lemage, Miss, do., 2 copies. 

Maclise, Mr. D., A.R.A., Char- 
lotte Street. 

Mann, Miss L., Plymouth. 

Manton, Mr. G., jun., Dover St. 

Marshall, Mr. W., Addington 
Place. 

Mayow, Miss, Sydenham. 

Mayow, Miss R, ditto. 

Megery, Mr., Love Lane. 

Miller, Mr. J. P., Upper Bedford 
Place. 

Metcalf, Mr. W., Fitzroy Square. 

Millns,Mr.,Regent's Place West. 

Morgan, Mr. E., Stock Exch. 

Noble, Mr., Southampton Street. 

Oswald, Mr. T., Camden Place, 

Lewisham, 4 copies. 
Oswald, Mr. W. D., Board of 

Trade, Whitehall, 4 copies. 
Oswald, Mr. W., Freeman's Crt. 



Parsons, Mr. C, Temple Chamb. 

Parsons, Mrs. C. 

Patient, Mr. J., Kingsland Road. 

Patten, Mr. G., A.R.A., Berners 
Street. 

Patten, Mr. H., Claremont Ter- 
race. 



Pattison, Mr. G. W., Finsbury 
Circus, 2 copies. 

Pattison, Mr. J. F., 2 copies. 

Plimpton, Mr. A., jun., Bank- 
side, 2 copies. 

Plimpton, Mr. W., Friday St. 

Pocock, Mr. S., Bedford Square. 

Pocock, Mr. L., Furnival's Inn. 

Ponten, Mr., Ludgate Hill. 

Ponten, Miss, Strand. 

Pope, Mr. Camber well. 

Potter, Mr., Berners Street. 

Pugh, Mr., Salisbury Street. 

Pugh, Mr. R. 

Randall, Mr. C, Queenhithe. 
Row, Mr. J., Champion Grove, 

Camberwell. 
Row, Mr. S., Little St. Thomas 

Apostle. 
Row, Mr. James, Tottenham. 

Sambrooke, Mr., Arundel Wharf, 

5 copies. 
Sandell, Mr., Upper Cambridge 

Terrace, Edgeware Road. 
Savory, Mr. J., New Bond St. 
Savory, Mrs. do. 

Severn, Mr. H., James Street. 
Smith, Mr. T., Strand. 
Smith, Mr. James, Blackheath, 

2 copies. 
Stanley, Mr., Bond Street. 
Stanfield, Mr. E., R.A., Morn- 

ington Crescent. 
Straight, Mr., 40 Bedford Place. 
Straight, Mr. Marshall, Great 

James Street. 

Tapster, Mr. S.E., Craven Hotel, 

Craven Street, 2 copies. 
Tapster, Miss. 



Vlll 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 



Tanner, Mr., Swan River. 
Taylor, Mr., Gower Street. 
Taylor, Mr., Shadwell. 
Taylor, Mr., Holborn. 
Thomas, Mr. G., Clapham Road. 
Thomson, Mr., Chelsea. 
Thorn, Mr., Selwood Terrace, 

Fulham. 
Todd, Mr. John, Winchester. 
Tomkins, Mr. H. 

Vallance, Mr., Essex Street. 
Veasey, Mr. S., Regent's Terrace, 

Commercial Road. 
Viveash, Mr., Calne. 
Viveash, Mr. C, Calne. 
Viveash, Mr. O., Calne. 

Walter, Mr., Alfred Place. 
Walter, Mr., jun. do. 



Watson, Mrs., Marchmont St., 

2 copies. 
Watson, Mr. J., Crescent, Albany 

Road. 
Watts, Mr. J., Berners Street. 
Welsford, Mrs. 

Wilson, Mr., Vere St., 2 copies. 
Wilson, Mr., Burton St., 4 copies. 
Windsor, Mr., Devonshire Sq. 
Windsor, Mr. C, do. 
Windsor, Mr. H., Hackney. 
Wingrove, Mr. W., Regent's Pk. 
Wirgman, Mr. G., George St., 

Adelphi. 
Wood, Mr., Craven Street. 
Wood, Mr. T., Thames Parade, 

Chelsea. 
Wood, Mr. J., Charlotte Street. 
Woodley, Mr., Clapton. 
Wright, Mr., Foley Place. 



PROLOGUE, 



If for the veteran in art there lie 

Some perils in the Drama's billowy sea, 

How shall the novice 'scape the threat'ning fate 

Which skill confirm' d can barely hope to brave ? 

How, when the broad majestic hull scarce lives 

Amidst th' uncertain tides and furrowing winds 

Which mark the ocean as a place of death, 

How can the tiny bark, with untried sail, 

Hope to attain the land of promis'd smiles ? 

Chance oft surmounts a danger unforeseen, 

And leaves experience its tutor'd doubts. 

Come then, bright Chance, and seize my vacant helm, 

Hope for my pilot, zeal and toil my crew. 

The Drama's pencil often has portray'd 

The grand, the beautiful, the true, the false, 

And all the varied hues of moral light ; 

Has call'd to earth the venerable shades 

Of dim antiquity, and to our sight 

Fill'd the dead past with life, and bade it speak 

The inmost secrets of its ancient heart. 

The fire of Thespian genius has oft warm'd 
The classic form, the mould of chivalry, 
The soul of love, and honour's beaming heart ; 
And from the lifeless hieroglyphic page 
Bade nature rise embodied. This great art 
Has giv'n to kindred genius a fresh soul, 
And taught its bright creations how to breathe, 
a 



X PROLOGUE. 

The Drama's mine, deep work'd, presents small store 
To him who gathers fragments. All have not 
The means to strike out some new vein of ore : 
Yet, should the humbler dramatist essay 
To multiply the fragments of this mine, 
Work'd by more potent skill, and place its stores 
In varied clusters on a brighter scene, 
'Tis so much rescu'd from the deep profound, 
Where industry mid darkness wends its way. 

Crush not the aspirations of his mind 

Whose untried pow'rs have urg'd their doubtful flight; 

With fear, up to ambition's giddy heights. 

He hath not yielded to the subtler spell 

Which proud imagination loves to cast 

O'er nature — interweave with art. No deeds 

Of harrowing myst'ry brings he forth, 

To startle nature with her own defects ; 

No gulf wide open'd by the monster guilt ; 

No blood-stain'd — yet, alas ! the tale too true 

He tells, and in its sad fulfilment lurks 

One deed of blood ; but o'er this painful scene 

The classic veil of all dramatic woes 

Falls timely, and thus rescues grief from tears. 

O, may the soften'd nature of the judge 

Who yonder sits in majesty array'd 

Visit but leniently a first offence, 

Nor bid the author and his drama hence ! 



CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY. 

Charles the First, King of England, aged 48. 

Henry, Duke of Gloucester, his youngest son. 

Cromwell, Lieutenant- General, subsequently General, head of the 

Independents, aged 49. 
Lord Fairfax, Lord General of the Puritan Army. 
Ireton, an Officer in the Puritan Army ; formerly a Lawyer, and 

son-in-law of Cromwell. 
Edward Moreton, a Cavalier, in love with Constance. 
Sir Philip Warwick, an old attached Attendant of the King. 
Lockier, a Captain in the Puritan Army ; formerly a Royalist ; 

a confidant of Cromwell. 
Hollis, the head of the Presbyterians. 
Massey, a Presbyterian; General of the Parliamentary Army 

against Cromwell. 
Waller, Sir W., a Presbyterian ; General, Member, and Comtnis- 

sioner. 
Fleetwood, an Officer, son-in-law of Cromwell. 
Harrison, a Colonel 
Joyce, a Cornet 
Pride, a Colonel 

Obadiah Bradleigh, a Corporal 
Grace-begotten Earnshaw, a Sergeant 
Ephraim Meadows, a Soldier 
Hezekiah Parsons, a Soldier 
Sipkin, Landlord of the Blue Boar. 
Herbert, an Attendant of the King. 
Dr. Juxon, late Bishop of London. 

Sergeant Bendy, two Cavaliers, two Citizens, Old Man, Lenthal 
(Speaker), Cook, Steele, Dorislaus, Guards, Servants, Crowd, <frc. 

Princess Elizabeth, Daughter of Charles the First. 
Lady Fairfax, Wife of the Lord General. 
Mrs. Cleypole, the favourite Daughter of Cromwell. 
Constance, the Niece of Lady Fab fax. 

The Scene passes alternately in London, Holdenby or Holmby, 
Triplo, St. Alban's, Reading, and Caversharn. The Play com- 
mences on the 1st June, 1648, and terminates on the 30th 
January, 1649. 



in the Puritan Army, 



CROMWELL. 



ACT I. SCENE I. 

Interior of the Blue Boar Inn, Holborn. A low, heavy- 
roofed, and panelled apartment, with a door in the 
background, to the left of which is a bay-windoiv com- 
manding the street. Tables placed in various parts of the 
room; at one of these are seated Captain Lockier, 
Corporal Obadiah Bradleigh, and Serjeant 
Grace-begotten Earnshaw, the latter leaning on 
his hands reading. Sounds of revelry from an adjoin- 
ing room, where a party of Royalists are carousing. 

Sipkin the Host crosses the stage with flagons, to the 
side-door. 

Lock. I'faith, your Royalists 5 spirits flag not with 
their hopes, and seem somewhat brighter than their 
prospects. [Cheers and laughter withinJ] Ay I sing on, 
my gay birds ; an' ye sing till doomsday, and drink but 
half the time, your proud master may chance be luckier 
than of late. These Cavaliers are hard marks to fire at ; 
for when one thinks them fairly winged, they flutter and 
chirp again before one's back is turned. 

[Loud laughter, and chorus of Cavaliers within. 
Brave Cavaliers, ho ! Cavaliers, ho ! 

Brave Cavaliers, to the rescue — quick ! 
Since double-handed, we've reason to know, 

Is the grim Puritan chief, Old Nick : 
Nosey Noll is his right, 'tis confess'd ; 
Goody Fairfax, his left, may be guessed : 

O, surely well arm'd is Old Nick ! 
Brave Cavaliers, ho ! Cavaliers, ho ! [Cheers within. 

B 



Z CROMWELL. 

Obad. [in a sanctimonious tone~\ Verily, but that the 
refreshment of the body is necessary and lawful, I would 
not abide within earshot of the profane ones. 

Lock. Nay, master Obadiah, for the matter of that, 
even thy sanctity is somewhat whispered against; men 
scruple not to say that thou hast turned leveller.^) 

Obad. Yea, verity, I have; albeit I am not assured 
that the term implieth truly the thing, since the carnal- 
minded defile propriety of language, and the taste of the 
elect cannot discern perverse things. 

Lock. Wouldest imply that I am carnal-minded ? 
[Obad. lifting up his hands, and attempting to speak.] 
Tush ! it matters not, man. Well, then, Obadiah Brad- 
leigh, corporal and Fifth-Monarchy man, thou dost not 
approve of the present state of affairs. 

Obad. Nay, of a verity do I not. Neither do I 
subscribe unto the wilfulness of the Parliament, which 
seeketh to suborn the righteous sword to fight the un- 
righteous battle. Wherefore should we be sent unto 
Ireland, ( 2 ) even as enforced swine ? it is a very desert. 

Grace-beg. [reading aloud in a drawling tone] "And 
they said unto Moses, Because there were no graves in 
Egypt, hast thou taken us away to die in the wilderness }" 

Obad. Brother Grace-begotten, thine interruption is 
not untimely ; Ireland is indeed a wilderness full of 
graves. 

Grace-beg. Verily, thou art right, most forcible- 
judging Obadiah. 

Obad. Thy apt reading proveth clearly unto my seek- 
ing spirit that it is forbidden for the elect to proceed unto 
Ireland. 

Grace-beg. Yea, it is forbidden; wherefore will we 
not go. We have no spiritual superiors; and the dis- 
tinctions of worldly state are wicked devices of Satan. 

[Puts up his Bible. 
Lock, [aside] Well spoken, my other brave leveller. 



CROMWELL. O 

Cromwell is right; there's treason in the camp. I shrewdly 
suspect, with all his pretended love and respect for Parlia- 
ment, he cares not how the army disobeys it, although he 
would be somewhat jealous of their godly scruples where 
he is concerned. However, for the present I must e*en 
help them on to perdition. — Ay, quite right are ye, my 
masters ; X, for one, will never consent to be bandied 
about like a mere janizary, or other hireling, at the will 
and caprice of cowardly civilians. 

Grace-beg. We take not up the sword as merce- 
naries ; we wield it on a righteous principle, and will 
carry it through, even though we 

Lock. Who have we here ? 

[Looking towards the centre door. 

Ob ad. Even a malignant. 

Enter at the street-door Edward Moreton. 
Edw. What, ho ! drawer ! 

Enter at the side-door Sipkin. 

A flask of rhenish, good Sipkin ; for since the rascal 
Roundheads take to claret and canary, *tis time that loyal 
men should choose some other liquor. 

Sip. Tut, sir, tut ; see you not ? 

[Pointing to the Roundheads. 

Edw. Roundheads ! Three to one ; the Lombard's 
sign. Ay, all roguery goes in threes ; Cromwell, Fair- 
fax, and the devil ! 

Sip. Prithee, sir 

Edw. [staring at the Roundheads'] What care I, man ! 
I've seen their villanous crop- ears pricked up like hedge- 
hogs 5 bristles at the bare sound of a Cavalier's lightsome 
tramp. Are their ears any longer now, that I should 
mind them ? 

Lock, [aside] By NolFs nose, a gallant spirit ! Pm 



4 CROMWELL. 

loath to quarrel with him ; but I must keep up my 
character. — [Advancing to Edward] Harkee, my fine 

Cavalier 

Edw. Well, my grim Roundhead. 
Grace-beg. [interposing'] Nay, permit the malignant 
youth to give vent to his folly. It is of his flesh and his 
blood ; he cannot put it away as " the children of Israel 
put away Baalam and Ashtaroth." 

Edw. Thanks, my old parchment- visage, my profane 
steeple-crown !( 3 ) for thy permission to live yet a span. 

[Imitates his tone and manner in the last words. 
Lock. Roysterer, take heed ; another time, perchance 

[Strikes his sword. 

Edw. [interrupting him, at the same time touching his 
sword-handle] I may chance to snip your nose as well as 
your ears. 

Lock, [aside, smiling] A likely gallant enough to do 
it, too. — 

[Sits down. Obadiah and Grace-begotten also 
sit down ; the latter continues reading. Edward, 
staring at them and laughing, sits down, and takes 
up a newpaper. Noise outside ; laughter. 

Hezekiah Parsons enters by street-door, breathless. 

How now, most valiant ! art running for promotion ? 

Hezek. Of a verity, I know not — that is — I fain 
would .... I am troubled in spirit .... The evil-minded 
do pursue me. 

Lock. I see them not ; they have winged back into 
thy fancy, whence they came. 

Hezek. As I proceeded onwards in my course, medi- 
tating on spiritual things, the evil one did of a sudden 
assault me. 

Lock. The evil one ? ha, ha ! 

Obad. Nay, laugh not; it is possible. 



CROMWELL. O 

Hezek. Verily, the evil one ; for he transfuseth him- 
self into the human shape, and what so fitting as a Cava- 
lier's^ even a heart-malignant's ? 

Lock. Was there but one ? 

Hezek. Nay, there were two. They rudely assailed 
me with impious epithets ; and they desired me to dance, 
even in the street, according to the fashion of the profane, 
the which I did refuse to perform ; whereupon they drew 
their ungodly weapons, and threatened me. Lo, they 
approach. 

Enter the two Cavaliers, laughing. 

First Cav. Ha, ha, my sable Cupid ! wilt dance to a 
Royalist tune ? 

Second Cav. See you not his legs are partners in a 
shaking cotillon ? 

First Cav. Adieu, my spear-face ! Learn dancing, 
man, an' ye love us. Ha, ha ! 

[Exeunt laughing, towards the side-room. 

Lock, [aside] ^Twould have been a rare dance, truly. 
I could not for laughing check their impudence. — When 
freed from interruption, friend Obadiah, we'll more of our 
intentions. — Sipkin ! ale, man, ale ! 

Sip. Gentlemen, an't please you, before I execute your 
present order, may I request — [Lockier looks threaten- 
ingly at him] — mind me, I only request the payment of 
your score. 'Twas but yesterday I noted down a couple 
dozen of flagons. 

Lock. Well, thou miserly vintner, and were they not 
done credit to ? 

Sip. To your credit, truly. 

Ob ad. Did we not quaff them off to the perfect re- 
freshment of our spiritual natures ? 

Sip. I doubt it not, master Bradleigh ; however, more 
such, mark me, shall never 



O CROMWELL. 

Ob ad. [interrupts him~\ How, friend Sipkin ! thou 
wouldest not, for paltry mammon, or, the rather, for a 
temporary want thereof, let the elect of the earth perish of 
a great drought, which even now doth parch our throats ? 

Sip. May it throttle ye ! say I. 

Obad. The rather may it incite thy pity, friend Sipkin. 

Lock. Ay, let's have the liquor, man. 

Sip. Pay the score ! I say. [Raising his voice. 

Grace-beg. [looking off his book~\ The Parliament 
is deeply indebted unto us, it oweth us long arrears ; and 
until the day of payment thou wilt do the righteous deed 
to minister unto our wants, especially unto thirst, which 
checketh the word of grace. 

Sip. A murrain on ye ! say I. 

Lock. Will you supply us ? 

Sip. If I do, may I 

Grace-beg. [putting his hand before Sipkin's mouth] 
Hold ! be not profane as well as hard-hearted. 

Sip. Out of my house, you beggarly cut-purses ! 

Lock, [half -drawing his sword'] Look you, master 
Sipkin, though our pockets be somewhat rusty, our swords 
are not. — [Aside] I'll not waste coin on this cur. 
Sip. Out of my house ! I say. 

[They retire to the back of the stage disputing. 
Edw. [throwing down the newspaper] Sell a king ! ( 4 ) 
'sdeath, were it not horrible, it were ludicrous. Sell a 
king ! well done, my Scots ! Sell men ! are we turned 
savages? why, we shall eat them next. What devilry 
is this ? Why, an' 'twere a puppy, there had been more 
form ; but a king ! zounds, it beggars belief. And to 
gloss it over with commissionership ! Commissionership, 
forsooth ! why, 'tis the cant name for jailer. Would old 
Pembroke's antique legs had cracked their thready sinews 
first ! 'Fore heaven, it's beyond me. I'll drown the 
thought in wine. Drown the Puritans ! say I. 



CROMWELL. / 

Re-enter Sipkin, who has at length ejected the Puritans. 

Edw. Well done, cavaliero wine-bush ! An' you 
could eject the cursed Roundheads from England as you 
have from the Blue Boar, you should be tapster to a king. 
Drink, man, drink ! [Gives a flagon. 

Sip. Beggarly knaves ! The Parliament, forsooth ! 
but that it's uppermost just now, I could drink con- 
fusion to it. An 5 I wait till your Parliament pays, I 
may wait till it rains Burgundy [drinks'} . Your Puritan 
toper does no credit to liquor; he quotes you Scripture 
and drinks, and quotes you Scripture again ; when he's 
drunk, he's only more full of Scripture : a lying knave ! 
Your Cavalier for me. True, he don't always pay, but he 
refuses with a grace. And then he's the better for the 
stuff : he quotes you not Jeremiah, but Bill Shakspeare ; 
ah ! your Puritans have done for him.( 5 ) And then your 
Cavalier will sing for't ; ay, and will fight for*t \ a mad- 
cap, I warrant ye [drinks again] . There's sense in this, 
after all. Your crop-ear's no such fool : no, no, sir 
knaves, no more liquor sans pay, that's flat. Sir Cavalier, 
ifs quite a relief to sweeten one's looks for a term, and 
talk reason, ay, and drink it too [drinks once more'] ; for 
this is right reasonable stuff. 

Edw. It had need be, master Sipkin; for it steals plenty 
of reason in its time. 

Sip. Ay doth it, my madcap. To your health, sir. 

[Drinks. 

Edw. [looking into the flagon] Had half a drop been 
there, I had quaffed it to King Charles. [Exit Sipkin. 

Enter Sir Philip Warwick, Edward advancing 
towards him. 

Ha, good Sir Philip, now the times are chang'd, 
How fares it with you ? 

Sir Ph. Even as with one 

Awaken'd from a trance, when all around 
Seems altered, men, circumstances, all ; 



8 CROMWELL. 

And e'en the soft amenities of life 
Turned into gall. Language is altered, too. 
Alas the day, so good a prince should fall 
From all his greatness ! 

Edw. Good Sir Philip, say, 

How bore the king the Scottish trial ? 

Sir Ph. Well ! 

Even as one who had envisaged Fate, 
And read his own dark hist'ry in her frown. 
He sat at chess, ( 6 ) and with his usual calm 
Survey' d the progress of the game : his piece, 
The king, was checked ; when, with a mournful smile, 
He spake his adversary thus : ei My lord, 
I little thought through you the king would fall." 
A letter^ at this moment, drew aside 
His piteous meaning, sweetly breathed. He read 
Calmly, as though the words of peace were there ; 
Then, turning to the noble, he declar'd 
That now indeed the king was lost. 

Edw. Poor prince ! 

Sir Ph. Nor hesitated he to leave the spot 
With his new guardians. 

Edw. Guardians ? jailers, say. 

Sir Ph. But little heeding where they ruthless dragg'd 
The royal remnant of his injur' d will. 
Alack the day ! better I then had died, 
Than live to see the like. 

Edw. Nay, man, we^ll live 

To see a brighter yet. Things cannot last, 
So strangely joined; cemented in such haste, 
That, ere th' inevitable settlement 
Displace th' egregious fabric, its own weight 
And inharmonious structure shall destroy 
Its swollen and corrupted frame. 

Sir Ph. Let's hope 

That such may be. 



CROMWELL. y 

Edw. Let's plan that such shall be, 

Good Sir Philip. If we be downcast, then 
The case is bad indeed. Why, I would e'en 
Cant like these whining rogues to gain the end, 
Wear puritanic beaver, close-cropped locks, 
Besober'd and begrimed suit of buff, 
Speak proverbs old as Solomon, and walk 
As though my stomach scabbarding my sword 
Ordain' d the pace. 

Sir Ph. Ay, ay, 'tis well, young man; 

Adversity cannot impair thy fount 
Of hope ; but age, less prone to gild the scene 
Of life or death, doth meditate the means 
More calmly. 

Edw. Ay ; not more securely, though. 
'Tis enterprise that sets at nought the skill 
Of grave experience ; a coup de main 
Right briskly tumbles wisdom o'er, and runs 
To meet success half way. 

Sir Ph. Ah, giddy youth, 
Thy gallantry, allied with soberer sense 

Edw. Would make impossibility, grave sir. 
Methinks e'en now I see our sacred king, 
Freshened in majesty, by my own arm 
From out these toils deliver'd, from his throne 
Command me to approach, and then invest 
My swelling form with orders infinite. 
O, I can see him now ; how well he looks ! 
How kindly doth he bend to me, and sign 
Me to approach. O, good Sir Philip, then 
You will not talk of prudence, but success. 

Sir Ph. Ay, madcap, let success attend thee; then 
E'en chary age will grudge thee no reward. 
Till then, adieu ! thy spirit doth but need 
A fitter guidance. [Exit, 



10 CROMWELL. 

Edw. A pest on prudence 

And on age ! nay, not on age ; my father 
Bears all his time-bound laurels with such grace 
As imitation woos. I will amend 
My deeds ; and not the least henceforth shall tend 
To aught but to restore the king. My brain, 
Assist my hitherto unguided arm 
To some intention' d deed. Constance, I swear 
By thy sweet name Fll constancy achieve, 
And pluck bright fame from off grim danger's sleeve. 

[Exit. 

SCENE II. 

Cromwell and Ireton discovered sitting in a large, 
wainscoted, low-roofed chamber in Cromwell ; s 
house. ( 7 ) 

Ire. The constitution of the Parliament 
Demands consideration, ere we step 
Onward in our opposition to it. 
The Presbyterians form the stronger band,( 8 ) 
The Independents the more zealous. True 
We have the army on our side. Full half 
The neutral members, when they find a choice 
Between the two contending parties urg'd 
By their own safety, will advance with us ; 
Till then we are at bay. To cultivate 
The strong misgivings of the troops to bear 
Upon our plans, must be our duly next. 

Crom. Good Ireton, on thy words persuasion sits. 
The subtleties of law( 9 ) have brac'd thy mind, 
And, with thy otherwise matured thoughts, 
Enable thee to spy each trivial flaw 
In th' adverse plea. But, to disguise the snare 



CROMWELL, 1 1 

We spread around the House, Fll to it straight, 
And bear the semblance of profoundest grief 
At the distempered state of England's camp. 

Ire. ^Tis well; the battery thus masked is sure. 

Crom. We must concert some deep, sufficient scheme 
For purging this foul Presbyterian den. 

Ire. Ay; and when well assur'd, I have a list( 10 ) 
Of those obnoxious to the godly cause. 

Crom. [hastily] Hollis, the foremost. 

Ire. Philip Stapleton, 

Sir William Lewis 

Crom. And Clotworthy too. 

Ire. Waller and Maynard 



Crom. Massey 

Ire. Glyn and Long, 

Haiiey and Nicholas. 

Crom. Ay, many more 

Must fall, ere justice w T ill be done. 

Ire. Many. [Rises. 

I'll to the camp at Triplo, to foment 
The growing discontent. Cromwell, farewell ! 

Crom. [rises'] Farewell, my right hand, my trusty 
Ireton. [Exit Ireton. 

They^re up and doing. We must needs prepare 
To counterplot, and turn to best account 
The passions of the army, slightly film'd 
With a faint shew of love to this same House, 
Which fain would grasp the biting sword. Poor fools ! 
*Tis a shrewd game to turn a modern doubt, 
With all the vigour of a new-born zeal, 
Against the musty prescripts of the past ; 
To plant artillery 'gainst fortress-gate 
Fram'd solely to resist the stroke of steel, 
Or catapult, or ram. ^Tis passing wise 
To turn a people's wrath against their laws, 



12 CROMWELL. 

Thus ang'ring them against th' upholders. Soon, 

The landmarks swept away, the timid cling 

Unto the ablest pilots. One plan( H ) yet 

Remains, to cast preponderance of weight 

In our deep balance. Joyce should now be here. 

Fairfax is ignorant of all ; his mind 

Can never grapple with a tortuous scheme. — 

[A knocking at the door. 
Enter ! 

Enter Joyce. 

Tis Joyce! 

Joyce. General, thou bad'st me here. 

Crom. Joyce, but that thou art known as godly bent, 
E'en to the deepest urging of the law, 
I would not thus confide in thee. 

Joyce. Gen'ral, 

I have, in due humility, yearn'd oft 
For inward light, and oft 

Crom. [quickly] Full well I know^t, 
And do applaud thy zeal ; but now would speak 
Of worldly act, enclosing goodly germs 
Of future godliness, the which full well 
Concerneth the elect, and thee ? bove all ; 
Since on the due performance doth depend 
Not only general good, but the chief test 
Of thy professed righteousness and faith. 

Joyce. May I be tried, yea, even 

Crom. So thou shalt. 
Go, seek the faithful Harrison, and crave, 
In my own name, two reg'ments of tried men : 
Proceed with them forthwith to Holdenby( 12 ) 

Joyce. Even where the Stuart . 

Crom. Yea, even so. 

Thou wilt persuade the king to follow thee. 

Joyce. But how ? by what persuasion ? whence 



CROMWELL. 13 

Crom. Listen ! 

Thou wilt convey a fitting troop in-doors ; 
And, for thine own protection, thou wilt bear 
Sufficient arms. Dost understand ? 

Joyce. I do. 

Crom. With no authority avowM,( 13 ) no name 
Ostensibly advanc'd, thou'lt — [hesitates] — seize the king. 
[Joyce appears surprised. Cromwell puts his 
hand on his arm, and looks intently at him. 
Albeit thou treatest him with due respect, 
Respect for his calamities, not rank, [Speaks this quickly. 
Be firm in act, and guarded in thy speech ; 
Thou go'st to actj not speak. On thee depends 
Our stipulation with the Parliament. 
Quickly, good Joyce ; be wary. 

Joyce. Even so. 
The wisdom of the serpent shall 

Crom. Dispatch ! 

[Motions him hastily. 
Good Joyce. [In a softer tone. Exit Joyce. 

Enter a Trooper with a Letter, which he delivers to 
Cromwell. 
5 Tis from the Earl of Warwick ; ( 14 ) what would he ? 

Exit Trooper. 
Addressed to Rushworth. [Reads. 

" To the Secretary of my Lord Fairfax. 
" Mr. Rushworth, 

u I pray remember my service to the General, and 
give him this letter, and cause him to be sensible of that 
base fellow's carriage, Colonel Lilburne, who called him and 
Lieutenant- General Cromwell, on Wednesday last, at the 
House of Commons' door, traitors in the highest degree. 
And so, in haste, I rest your assured friend, 

" Warwicke." 



14 CROMWELL. 

'Tis well : th' advice is timely ; the plot swells 

Unto development. No eye could trace 

My handiwork amidst the clamouring camp : 

Joyce has no order, no authority 

To do what gives authority enough, 

If but success attend the enterprise. 

Ambassador more subtle than one cloth' d 

With king's credential is the inward voice 

Of discontented man ; find it a tongue, 

And it will quickly nerve an arm so strong, 

That iron laws shall snap within its grasp. [Exit. 



SCENE III. 

A Room in Lord Fairfax's House. Constance( 15 ) at 
a table reading. 

Const, [laying aside her book] Ah me ! opposing 
duties bow me down : 
My duty to my aunt, my doating aunt, 
Who well fulfils the kindly trust from which 
Death did absolve my gentle mother ; then, 
My duty to my faith — my mother's faith, 
That faith for which my father bled — and died. 
Wherefore should affection steal from hate 
The pow'r to sear the heart, divide its pulse, 
And yield each cherish'd duty but one half ? 
Oh, my poor heart ! within the grave of hope 
Lie undistinguish'd by my aching mind. 
I cannot, if I would, subdue thy pow'r, 
Still paramount. And Edward too, 

The lord of that poor widow'd heart 

[Edward appears clambering through the window. 

He here, 
Good Heav'n ! Dear Edward ! 



CROMWELL. 15 

Edw. Love, be not alarmed. 

[Drops on his knee, and kisses her hand. 

Const. Nay, enough. [Withdrawing her hand. 

Edw. Enough, dear love ? nay, not so : 

Enough of agony endur'd ; but bliss 
Swells in avowal, and will not be bound 
By envious admeasurement. Once more, 

[He kisses her hand ; she attempts to raise him. 
O let me print devotion's glowing text 
On the fair page of love ! 

Const. To love ? what is't ? 

So long my heart's fond lesson has been stayed. 

Edw. [springing up, and speaking with animation] To 
love, is to discard the careless wight 
Who felt but for his laughter-seeking self, 
And knew no care but in the lack of mirth : 
To love, is to subdue the worldly brain, 
And don the tend'rer texture of the soul ; 
To permeate imagination's wing 
With scintillations from seraphic fires ; 
T' enchain the fancy with a subtle spell 
Deep and ecstatic ; to enwrap the mind 
In social fantasies ; to bind each thought 
Unto the shrine where pure affection glows, 
Hallowed by sacred oath, severe, yet mild : 
'Tis to erect a temple in the heart 
Where plays the sunlit fountain of our hopes ; 
To form a world of joy within those smiles, 
Beneath whose radiance ev'ry sorrow fades. 
As chimes do mingle with the floating wind, 
As lambent flames enlace their glowing arms, 
As sunny rays disport with golden smiles, 
So melt the genial feelings of two hearts 
Warm'd by fond sympathy. 

Const, [playfully] All this ! 



16 



CROMWELL. 



Edw. Ay, more ; 

As dreams cast radiance o'er the slumb'ring mind, 
And bid illusion ape reality, 
With joys unshackled crowding o'er the scene, 
Till waking reason tear the pleasing veil ; 
So swarm the ecstacies of love, while yet 
Its power unsullied sways ; one fatal doubt 
Dissolves the spell, and love for ever dies. 

Const. Is't then so transient ? 

Edw. No, sweet, 'tis not so ; 

But subtle 'tis as ether, and as pure. 

Const, [archly, pointing to the open window] And 
somewhat tinged with folly, to be sure. 

Edw. Why, what a weak philosophy is thine ! 
Which would condemn the earth because 'tis clay ; 
Regardless of the solar beam that plays 
Deep in its bosom, and imparts its life 
To all created things. 

Const, [sadly] But, where the sun 
Of hope shines not 

Edw. Where doth it not, my love ? 

No breast, once warm'd to love, despairs. 

Const. Indeed! 

I fear me, then, I hate you ; that do I. 

Edw. Nay, let me chide this humour from thee. 
O Constance ! wherefore should the hated times 
Divide us thus ?( 16 ) O, wherefore should my heart 
Be torn in twain by grim rebellion's hand, 
And the sweet flow'ret of my doating sight 
Surrounded by distasteful weeds ? 

Const. One flow'r, 

Dear Edward, blooms for me in secret still ; 
Thy love 

Edw. Dear girl, is ever, ever thine. 

Then wherefore sigh ? 



CROMWELL. 17 

Const. Edward, there doth impend 

A deeper ruin than to private hopes — 
A captive monarch and a state enslav'd. 

Edw. Nay, dearest, let me snatch from envious Time 
One thought unting'd by woe ; and yet, alas ! 
The tender current of our love doth flow 
Midst opposition. Dearest girl, thy aunt 
"Will ne'er consent that thou shalt be the wife 
Of one who loves his king. 

Const. Edward, 'tis true ; 
And I who love him, even as a part 
Of my religion, must, perchance, espouse 
A tyrant of my love, my faith 

Edw. Ah ! no, 

Dear Constance, never shall that be ; but grant 
Me liberty to claim mine own sweet prize, 
And I defy your uncle's tow' ring pride, 
And Lady Fairfax's increasing zeal 
For Puritanic insolence 

Const. Not so, 

Dear Edward ; they abound in gracious parts, 
And midst their sterner views do mingle sweets 
That make their gravity all cheerfulness : 
Nor lack they, O, believe me, kindliest views 
Of aught concerning thee. 

Edw. Nay, wherefore then 

Against me close their doors, and bid me steal, 
Like midnight villain, through the casement thus, 
Ere I can soothe my wounded spirit here ? 

[Kisses her hand, 
I find it in my heart to play the thief, 
And steal the richest jewel of their store. 

Lady Fairfax [within]. Constance, my love ! 

Const. O Edward ! 'tis my aunt. 

Edw. I fly. 

c 



18 CROMWELL. 

Const. Yet stay ; give not suspicion eyes, 
Which, seeing dimly, see the worst. I would 
Thou hadst been gone, but scorn to — — 

Enter Lady Fairfax. 

Lady F. Edward here ! 

Const. Dear aunt, forgive. 

Lady F. Can he forgive himself 

For visit so unseemly ? 

Edw. Ay, madam : 

Such act alone forgiveness can require 
As doth rebel against the heart and mind : 
This deed is clear within the Venice glass ( 17 ) 
Of guardian conscience — the undoubted test ; 
? Tis coin'd in honour's mint, and bears the stamp 
Of loyal meaning. 

Lady F. Good Mr. Moreton, 

Believe me, it doth grieve us passing sore 
To offer opposition to your suit; 
But principles are now at war, and men 
Must pay the penalty of warring minds. 

Const. And women too, dear aunt. Ah me ! 
Lady F. My child, 

Thou yet art young, and canst not comprehend 
The guile of men ; especially of those 
Nurs'd in th' ungodly courts of sinful kings. 

Edw. Such kings have lived, good my Lady Fairfax ; 
But if a tongue would dare to brand our Charles 
With sin, it sins indeed. Dear Constance, here 
I cast my doating heart — here, at thy feet ; 
Yet, sooner than endanger thy repose, 
I'll quit this house ; but with the fervent hope 
That England's sun may rise again, to light 
Our fading hopes. Constance, sweet love, farewell. 

Const. Farewell, dear Edward. [Exit Edward. 



CROMWELL. 1 9 

Lady F. Constance, my poor child, [Takes her hand. 
It grieveth me that mine unchanging sense 
Of thine own happiness should thus oppose 
Thine ardent wish ; but trials are oft sent 

[Walk towards the door. 
To wean the mind from its own dangerous bent. 

[Ewewit. 



END OF THE FIRST ACT. 



20 CROMWELL. 



ACT II. SCENE I. 

A Room in the Mansion at Holdenby, where Charles is 
confined. Herbert, his favourite attendant, and an 
old Menial, are in conversation. 

Herb. Alack the day, so excellent a prince should be 
the slave of bad men's passions ! I thought my heart 
would break when the traitorous Scots sold him to the 
rebellious English. 

Old Man. Nay, Mr. Herbert, 'twas the rebellious 
Parliament. 

Herb. Right, right; that most un-English Parlia- 
ment. The people had little voice, indeed. 'Twas a sad 
day. One person was there who bore the scene even 
cheerfully. 

Old Man. Shame be on him for't ! 

Herb. Nay, that was the king. 

Old Man. Indeed ! Did he not refuse to go ? was 
he not angered with them ? 

Herb. No, in truth ; he bore it as a father would a 
thoughtless, unkind word from his hasty child. A small 
tear stood trembling in his eye, but quickly melted in his 
wonted smile ; he then lightly stepped into his triply- 
guarded coach. But lo ! he comes. 

Old Man. Sweet prince ! 

Enter Charles the First, reading. 

Ch. Hence, flattering tale ! thine accents cheat no 
more : 
They whisper'd me whilom a pleasing lie 
Of good-engend'ring power ; of majesty, 
Arm'd with a gracious justice, gleaning smiles 
E'en from the haggard cheek of toil and care ; 
Pictured a glowing land of law and love ; 
Of rule ador'd as the bright social sun, 



CROMWELL. 21 

Whose potent rays bid from the genial heart 

Love spring full grown — first-fruits of swelling hope. 

All but a breath ! Let poets dream of this ! 

[Closes the book. 
A change is working in my spirit. All 
That is past; remember'd as a dream. 
Bears to the present no similitude. 
My mind, relieved from its o'erburden'd state, 
Culls pleasing fancies from the passing scene, 
And soothes remembrance with a tranquil view 
Of passionate existence. It subsides 
As mountain torrent into streamlet mild, 
Sporting amidst th ? enameli'd fields. — Herbert, 
My faithful Herbert, any further news ? 

Herb. So please my liege, some worthy to be told, 
Where evil grows apace : Raglan, 'tis said, 
Doth still hold out, and Worcester's marquis hails 
The royal Charles, in face of Parliament. 

Ch. Alas, poor soul ! to own such loyalty, 
So out of date. 

Herb. Report has also brought 
The death of rebel Essex( 1 ) on its tongue. 

Ch. Good friend, thy pardon, if my blunted ear 
Receive not fittingly thy double tale. 
My world is now myself, and round my heart 
Are wound the only secrets of my state. 
The living Charles now envies Essex dead, 
Whom living he had wished so. Essex gone ! 
One rebel more or less, it matters not, 
When the wide heart of England is attaint 
With deep disloyalty. 

Herb. My liege, prince Charles ( 2 ) 

Ch. Ha, what of him ? Thy voice bespeaks no ill. 

Herb. None, sire ; and truly so, since the Nore fleet 
Has mutinied, and sailed to join the Prince. 



22 CROMWELL. 

Ch. Brave news indeed ! within our palace-walls 
We could not hear a fairer tale. Herbert, 
Is this the ancient servitor of whom 
You spake but yesterday ? 

Herb. My liege, it is. 

Ch. Approach, old man. Nay, kneel not ; wait until 
My state require such lowly circumstance. 

Old Man. O sire, permit mine age to reverence 
My king, my country's king. 

Ch. Ah ! good old man ; 

Within the precincts of thy humble lot 
Are sown the seeds of safety ; and thy head 
Bears but the weight of thine increasing years, 
With a few straiten'd schemes of private good. 
Monarchs have no existence in themselves ; 
They but embody the idea of pow'r. 

[Herbert, who has been looking from the casement, 
comes quickly forward. 

Herb. Sire, the Commissioners of Parliament. 

Ch. Of foul rebellion, rather. Forward, slaves ! 
When Rome gave tribunes to the streperous mob, 
She placed a lash in every dusky palm, 
To scourge opposing virtue from the state. 
Alas, poor England ! emulous of ill, 
Legions of tribunes whelm thine ancient throne. 
I do repent me that this Parliament 
Was ever call'd. — My faithful Commons come. [Dryly. 

Enter Masse y, Waller, ( 3 ) and other Commissioners. 

[They bow respectfully to the king, who sits down ; 
Herbert stands near the chair; Old Man 
gazes on the scene, and retires to the background. 
Ch. Gentlemen, your will? 

Mas. Sire, the Parliament 

Ch. Well, sirs, the Parliament ? Doth it propose 



CROMWELL. 23 

Fresh schemes of insult, or doth it repent 
Its haste and arrogance. Do tears of blood 
Protest its penitence of all these acts, 
The bare conception of the which doth scare 
Propriety from earth. 

Mas. With due respect, 
Unhappy prince 

Ch. How, sir, unhappy ! 

We have endeavoured to perform our task, 
Set us by Heav'n itself, as crowned king 
Of these our realms, with ev'ry due regard 
For our high office and the nation's weal ; 
Wherefore unhappiness can never fall 
Unto our lot, although rebellion's hand 
Should grasp the empty bauble of our crown, 
And deem the kingly state thereby extinct. 

Mas. My liege, so far from such disloyal thoughts, 
The Parliament doth grieve the painful past, 
And sends you greeting. 

Ch. [sarcastically] Deeply I regret 
My state forbids reception suitable 
To bearers of so much respect. — [Sternly] Grave sirs, 
When circumstances herald forth the change 
In England's stubborn Parliament, we'll then, 
And not till then, believe it means us well. 

Wal. Will't please you, sire, receive our mission now, 
Nor aggravate the questions thus in course 
Of equitable settlement, by words 
111 suited to that end, and 

Ch. Sirs, no more ! 

Shall I, unmindful of my sacred trust — 
Though sullied, unimpair'd — dishonour brave 
By yielding up authority not mine, 
But the prescriptive heir-loom of my race ? 
Shall I forget that I was born a king, 
A native and hereditary king ? 



24 CROMWELL. 

Mas. Sire, will't please you lend a willing ear 
Unto the cogent reasons 

Ch. [vehemently] No, sirs, no ! 

Restore to us our ancient state ; restore 
Our chosen friends, our faithful servitors ; 
And, as ye value concord, above all, 
Restore our chaplains ( 4 ) to their sacred trust 
Of sanctifying God's anointed king. 
Are these to be restored ? 

Wal. Your majesty 

Addresses agents of the state, not men 
Whose fiat can redress a wrong. 

Ch. Nay, then, 

Messires, depart ; nor furthermore demand 
Unauthorised communion with your king. 

[Noise of troops in the ante-chamber ; Commissioners 
surprised. 
What harsher sounds are those than meet me here ? 

[Sharply. 

Joyce [outside] Warrant, forsooth ! Stand back, my 
forward sir ; 
Or, by the Gospel, I will teach thee 

Enter Joyce, armed, with Soldiers. 

Sirs! 
Your pardon ; but my office here forbids 
Much ceremony. — [To soldiers'] Halt! ground arms ! at 
ease ! 
Mas. How's this, intruder ? Know you not the king ? 
Ch. [rising] The knowledge is not certainly in vogue. 

[To Commissioners. 
How should he when his betters know him not ? 
Mas. [to Joyce] If I read true, a cornet? 
Joyce. Yea, grave sir, 

And formerly a tailor, even as 
The chosen men of old were lowly men, 



CROMWELL. 25 

Exalted unto holiness. But, sirs, 

My orders — or — I would say — my design [Confusedly. 

Must be perform'd. Your majesty will deign 

To follow me. [Commissioners surprised. 

Ch. How, sirrah ! On our word, 

We sure are masking here ; and I, the fool, 
Am but the foil of others' wit. Sir knave, 
What would you ? Speak, or by my halidom, 
I'll cure you of your jesting. 

Joyce. Fewest words 

Are soonest mended ; and it little boots 
Threatening, without the rod wherewith to strike. 

Ch. [to Commissioners'] Wye hear, messires, the lesson 
ye have taught ? 
Is thus the majesty of kings dissolved 
By the gross breath of faction, that a thing 
Like this should dare command ? O God ! thy will 
Mysterious works indeed. 

Wal. [to Joyce] Hark ye, cornet ! 
By England's Parliament we do command 
Instant obedience ; withdraw those troops ; 
And if misled by more aspiring minds, 
We will espouse thy cause, and 

Joyce. Hark ye> sirs ; 

Fll brook no interruption nor delay. 

Ch. [to Joyce] We charge thee, rebel, to declare 
thy will, 
Since ev^ry creeping thing now boasts of one. 

Joyce. Your majesty will probably conceive 
That arguments like these are not withstood ; 

[Points to his pistols. 
And understand the strict propriety 
Of yielding unto spiritual might, 
Rather than tempt the carnal arm. 

Ch. Sirrah, 

Whither would you drag our sacred person ? 



26 CROMWELL. 

Joyce. Even unto the army. 

Mas. [aside] Even so ! 

'Tis Cromwell's plan. Beware, bold gen'ral, yet. 

Ch. [to Joyce] By what authority, rude sir ? 

Mas. [interposing] My liege 

Ch. Some warrant, doubtless, can you shew. 

Joyce. None, sire, 

Save this [pointing to his troops] ; warrant sufficient for the 
deed. 

Ch. Most true; your warrant is full legible ; 
No spelling doth't require ; ( 5 ) its characters 

[Looking at the troops. 
Are fair ; persuasion doth attend their forms. 

Wal. My liege, this insolence must not be borne ; 
The might of Parliament alone can do 
What this rude underling 

Joyce. Stand back, bold sir; 

Or, by my faith, thou'lt rue thy prating tongue. 

[Draws pistol. 

Mas. Hast orders from the Parliament for this ? 

Joyce. Nay. 

Mas. The generals, then ? 

Joyce. Nay. 

Mas. From Cromwell ? 

Joyce. Nay. 

Wal. By whose or what authority is% then ? 

[Joyce silently points to the soldiers. 

Ch. [aside] Herbert, my coach ; for I must needs 
depart. [Exit Herbert. 

Ay, sirs, 'tis thus ; it matters little now [To Comm. 

At whose command I speak, or move, or live. 
'Twere better far the army did receive 
My lowly state, than linger thus, the slave 
Of Parliament. Do I leave aught, indeed, 
Which can attach me to this cheerless spot, 
Where all the stern realities of life 



CROMWELL. 27 

Unbidden wait upon my lonely couch ? 
I scorn the mercies of the Parliament. 
Soldiers ! receive your king. 

[Commissioners surprised. Joyce motions soldiers, 
whopresent arms. Re-enter Herbert. Scene closes. 

SCENE II. 

An Apartment in Lord Fairfax's Mansion. Constance 
reading a Letter from the Queen. ( 6 ) 

Const. My sweetest queen, thy slightest wish to me 
Is strongest law ; yet doth my heart misgive. 
[Reads'] Ci Assume a page's dress, and then repair 
Unto my royal Charles." — [Reflects'] Ay, that will I : 
All woman's fears discard, and in the good 
Which waits upon the deed, I'll cast the shame. 
My queen, thy smiles now light a foreign court ; 
Yet thou'rt at home, save that thy heart is here. 
Two bosoms hath thy family ; one torn 
By horrid discord, and the other warm'd 
By loyalty : thy English breast assail'd 
By winter blasts, while smiling summer sheds 
Its balm within the other. France 1 fair land ! 
O welcome to thy shores our injur'd queen ! 
[Reads] " My sweet Elizabeth, unfit to dwell 
Amidst the fever'd elements of strife, 
You will in secret and in safety send 
Forthwith to join me at my native court ; 
And thus, fair mistress, as you own a heart, 
Close the deep wound of mine ; an absent child 
Restore unto my longing arms, and live 
The brightest spot in grateful memory." 
Would that I could, poor queen ! O sweet princess ! 
How clear thy path to a fond mother's arms ? 
How steal thee from the jealous gaze of those 
Who view thy greatness as thy great offence ? 



28 CROMWELL. 

Enter Lady Fairfax. 

Lady F. Constance, dear mistress Cleypole doth con- 
sent 
To breathe with us our northern air. 

Const. Indeed, 

Dear aunt. 

Lady F. Early to-morrow morn we start ; 
Wherefore, despatch, my love. [Exit. 

Const. So soon ? nay, then 

My plans are fixed; this night I'll hie to do 
Her gracious bidding. Yet, alone ? O no ! 
How easy the conception of this scheme ! 
How hard to execute ! Could Edward aid ? 
Ah me ! I did forget I am a page. 
Sir Philip Warwick was my father's friend, 
And he doth sometime tend the king. 'Tis he 
Shall help the poor unpractis'd page to save 
The fairest jewel of the crown. Fll write 
Unto my aunt, nor leave sad doubts to fill 
Constance's place in her devoted heart. [Exit. 

SCENE III. 

An Apartment in Cromwell's House. Cromwell writing. 
Mrs. Cleypole sitting at the same table. 

Mrs. C. Nay, dearest father, thou dost not conceive 
The meaning of my speech. 

Crom. [gloomily] 'Tis difficult, 

My child, to glean from words th' exact intent. 

Mrs. C. But mine are notso deep as to be clad 
With mystery. Wilt grant my wish ? 

Crom. What is't ? 

Mrs. C. [rising, and leaning over his chair] Nay, 
promise, on th' assurance that the deed 
Is easy of performance. 



CROMWELL. 29 

Crom. Well, what is't ? 

Mrs. C. That, of thy health more chary, thou'lt con- 
sent, 
With Lady Fairfax and myself to pass 
Some pleasant time in Denton Castle, (") where 
His Excellency will repair, as soon 
As state affairs permit. 

Crom. Well, well, I'll see. 

[Continues writing. 

Mrs. C. Nay, always thus immersM in deep concerns, 
No words of love can reach thy closed ear. 

Crom. [hastily'] I am not in the humour, sweet ; a 
dream ( 8 ) 
Hath left its shadows in my aching brain. 

Mrs. C. A dream ! merely a dream ! I'm not a dream, 
To fright thee from me. 

Crom. O 'twas a dark dream ! 
Methought an unseen form did place a key 
Within my grasp, and beckon me the way 
Unto a cabalistic dungeon-door ; 
Then bade me ope the firm-fix'd portal wide, 
And legions of imprison'd souls set free : 
Scarce had I touch'd the lock, when with a crash 
The dungeon crumbled, and the air was fill'd 
With wild distemper'd forms and fiery signs ; 
Whilst fetid exhalations from the depths 
Of a wide-yawning chasm 

Mrs. C. [imploringly'] Father, father 



Crom. Nay, Fll not pain thee with the gloomy tale ; 
'Twas but a dream. 

Mrs. C. Dear father, it doth prove 

Indeed the urgency of my request : 
Thy precious health would soon be renovate 
By the soft air of Denton. 

Crom. [abstractedly] But a dream ! 
I've fac'd the deepest horrors of the world, 



30 CROMWELL. 

All that its bloodiest stages can sum up, 
With nerve full strung ; yet this one foolish dream 
Doth melt the sterling substance of my heart, 
And leave the dross alone. 

Mrs. C. Say, father, wilt 

To Denton ? say 

Enter Servant. 

Serv. Sir, the Lord Gen'ral waits. 

Crom. [starting up from his reverie] 'Tis well ; my 

child, retire. 
Mrs. C. Think on my wish. 

Crom. I will. [Exit Mrs. Cleypole. 

Enter Lord Fairfax. 

Crom. Good day, my lord. 

Fair. Cromwell, good day. 

Crom. Thy brow, good Fairfax,, is unseemly bent; 
Have tidings adverse to the cause 

Fair. Not so. 

[Cromwell looks searchingly at him; Fairfax 
pauses, then continues. 
Cromwell, I like not this continu'd strife ; 
It augurs ill for England's weal. 

Crom. My lord, 

These fears of thine, albeit quite natural 
To gentle minds, are baseless. 

Fair. Wherefore, then, 

The increasing hatred which doth beset 
Our countrymen ? the universal fears 
Which do uproot the general content ? 

Crom. Good my lord, 'tis not for the eye of man 
To scan creation ; for his weak judgment 
To predicate remedial measures, nor 
Suggest a better scheme than perfect good ; 
His ken is but for palpable effects : 



CROMWELL. 31 

The causes still are working to their ends, 
And carnal minds alone oppose weak thoughts 
To stem strong currents of mysterious good. ( 9 ) 

Fair. I cannot fathom metaphysics' depths, 
Who solve the knottiest problem with my sword. 

Crom. Lord Fairfax, thou dost underrate thy mind : 
Such humble thoughts are praiseworthy, indeed, 
Amidst an age so unregenerate ; 
But it behoves the godly to enjoin 
Strict penance to the worldly-seeking mind ; 
To crush the perverse spirit which doth lurk, 
Tainted with opposition to the Word, 
In breasts uncleans'd by purifying fire. 
Thy reputation, noble Fairfax, doth 
Oppose all credence of lukewarmness. 

Fair. How ! 

Cromwell, I am not wont to be suspect. 

Crom. Nor art thou, good my lord ; yet fain would I 
Save thee from all this tenderness of thought, 
Which doth assimilate the cogent good, 
The strong necessity, the temporal right, 
With spiritual evil, from the which 
May Heaven preserve us in our darken'd path ! 
Could we but order all the acts of men 
According to the wish of the elect, 
No harshness need be meted out. But since 
The stubbornness of man, self-seeking man, 
Ev'n like that of Egypt's hosts, doth pull 
The wall of wave upon itself, we needs 
Must further by our zeal the glorious work. 

Fair. It must, good Cromwell, be the general task 
To save the tabernacle from the flood : 
None with redemption's seal could e'er refuse 
To lend a helping hand ; yet 

Crom. [hastily'] Yet — yet what ? 

My lord, my lord, thy guileless nature oft 



32 CROMWELL. 

Suggests discrepancies. It doth require 

A more elaborate perception 

Of the heart of man ; of tortuous act ; 

Of evil undisguis'd tending to good ; 

Of the entire labyrinth of thought ; 

Of the deep spark, the smothered source of fire ; 

Of all the bubblings of the fount of life ; 

Of all the modes by which men hide their thoughts, 

Or make known those which are expedient ; 

Of schemes to lure the hidden sense ; to probe 

The falt'ring conscience ; to uphold the proud, 

Till they overtop their bent ; to cheat the vain 

With trifles ; to outmatch the keen ; to face 

A feeble cause with plausibility ; 

To woo the timid heart with its own fears ; 

To lull suspicion with its own conceits 

Fresh channell'd, and on failures build success. 

In fact, my lord, thine honest nature knows 

No other law than honour. Yet these times 

Demand a deeper knowledge of the springs 

And latent motives of the human heart. 

Fair. Too true. There was a day when with one mind 
A man might play his part ; he now requires 
As many minds as are oppos'd to him, 
Each subtler than the other. Thou, Cromwell, 
Canst adapt thy spirit unto all things. 

Crom. Say not to all things, good my lord ; e'en now 
My spirit doth recoil from the bad act 
Which hath enclosed the erring king, like one 
With crimes of deepest dye attaint. His fate, 
Ordain'd by th' unrelenting Parliament, 
Shocks men's pity ; ev'n they who did desire 
To see the rod of royalty transform'd 
Into a legal sceptre, now complain 
Of Parliament's undue severity, 
Whose scheme is to undo the king and camp. 



CROMWELL. 



33 



Fair. Cromwell, it doth rejoice me that thy speech, 
According with my most sincere desire, 
Should point unto redemption of our cause 
From tyranny. 

Crom. My lord, 'tis even so ; 
And though this arm would hurl oppression down, 
T would not crush the feeble instrument 
Which errs but from its frail construction. 
Were't necessary to pluck up the root, 
I e'en would do it ; if, to extirpate 
A principle pernicious to the state, 
*Twere needful to eradicate the man 
Who dared uphold it, I assuredly 
Would then perform the deed without remorse : 
But in the case of Charles this need not be ; 
Amended kingly rule will all restore. 

Fair. Would that the king were less enslaved 1 

Crom. My lord, 

Didst thou but feel inclin'd to free the king, 
Thou hast alone to say, let this be done ;( 10 ) 
'Twere speedily performed ; the Stuart then 
Would be at fullest liberty to treat 
With army or with Parliament, as best 
He deemed. Thy sanction, lord, will this effect. 

Fair. Would that it might ! I cannot sanction deeds 
Which bear improbability in face. 
I see no chance ; but would the thing were done ! 

[Exit. 

Crom. Perchance it is. Fairfax, I thank thee well 
For this allowance ; it shall cast the deed 
Beyond myself, and bring authority 
To bear against authority. Proud House, 
Let Joyce* s mission be but well performed, 
The king, the Parliament, all, all must bend. 
The future, rich with deep ambition* s stores, 
Woos foresight to extract its settled plans, 



34 CROMWELL. 

Where weakness sees but chance. No chance e'er shap'd 

The tutored longings of my teeming soul ; 

Each step, full well assurM, hath baffled doubt : 

Schemes, dimly trac'd within the morrow's breast, 

Yet tend unto mine honour. Come what will, 

Fll rule, whate'er the name or place I fill. [Exit* 



SCENE IV. 

A Room in a Mansion near Holdenby. 
Enter Sir Philip Warwick and Constance as a Page, 

Const. Good Sir Philip, oft did my father dwell 
On you and your deserts ; and though my eyes 
Had never learn' d to know you, yet my mind 
Had form'd a gracious image of his friend. 

Sir Ph. My gentle girl, my poor lost comrade's child, 
No thought have I which thou may'st not command. 

Const. Would that my father liv'd to thank you, sir ! 

Sir Ph. Would that he liv'd to aid the royal cause ! 
His sword might cleave our Charles's chains ; his voice 
Might rally loyalty around the throne. 
But you, sweet friend, are treading in his steps ; 
Be the fair champion of our glorious cause. 
If my small aid can bring you to the king, 
'Tis done. Let's then to Holdenby to-day. 

Enter Edward hastily. 

Const, [aside, retiring] Edward ! my heart, support 

my bold disguise. 
Edw. Sir Philip, good Sir Philip, by St. George, 
The king is gone. 

Sir Ph. Gone ! 

Edw. Ay, gone ! 

Sir Ph. But whither ? 

Edw. Ay, whither, forsooth ! I cry you mercy, 



CROMWELL. 35 

But, in my haste to bring the strange report, 

I tarried not to learn — what none indeed 

Would whisper into an unfriendly ear. 

But, man, the king is gone. At Holdenby 

I lay in wait, to make a third attempt 

To get into his chamber ; two had fail'd, 

E'en on the verge of hope ; the third, well plann'd, 

Had nearly ta'en effect, when, on the road, 

I spied the royal coach midst Roundhead guards. 

Sir Ph. Art sure the king was there ? 

Edw. Ay, troth, too sure ; 

For whilst I lay conceal'd, with eyes full fix^d 
Upon the royal cavalcade, a voice, 
One of the Parliament Commissioners', 
Wound up the speaker's rage at his escape 
By orders for their horses ; and away 
They rode, not more astonish'd than myself 
To see the royal lair thus boldly robbed. 

Sir Ph. Nay, but 5 tis passing strange ! 

Edw. Tis infamous ! 

Make royalty a prize for freebooters ! 
Not even battled for, but slyly stolen, 
Like fruit from orchard-wall, and carried off 
To be devour' d at leisure ! Crop-ear'd knaves ! 
Doubtless they're some of CromwelPs hopeful crows. 

Sir Ph. Nay, *tis not possible ; for Cromwell e'er 
Profess'd a leaning towards the Parliament^ 11 ) 

Edw. Professed indeed ! — [Sees Constance] Good 
Heaven ! who is this youth ? 
It cannot be ! Constance ! 

Sir Ph. Say her brother. 

Nay, Moreton, an 5 you cannot guess a boy 
E'en by his garb, the king's escape has filch'd 
Your judgment with your eyes. 

Edw. [still gazing] Constance, nay, speak. 



36 CROMWELL. 

Const. My voice may chance to pour into your ear 
Greater deception ; 'tis my sister's own. 

Edw. Your sister ; nay, I could have sworn that she 
And you were one ; great nature never cast 
Two moulds so much alike. 

[Gazes intently, and then offers his hand. 
Your pardon, sir : 
Pray, take my hand, as she has ta'en my heart, 
In pledge of lifetime service, an' you choose 
To try me. — [Aside'] Sure such cozening of the eyes 
Was never known before. 

Const, [aside'] Suspicion strong 

Invests his trust in outward circumstance ; 
But no suspicion he shall bring to bear 
Shall make me be myself. 

Edw. [aside] She often said 

She had a brother ; yet the strong likeness 
And form identical should prompt her tongue 
To dwell on such a rare particular. 

Sir Ph. Edward, this youth 

Edw. [quickly] How call you him, good friend ? 

Const, [interposing] Julius, good sir. 

Edw. Well then, fair youth, accept 

My double love. 

Const. Most willingly do I. 

Edw. And should I, heedless of thy brotherhood, 
Forget that Constance breathes not, speaks not here, 
Forgive and warn me of the fitting love 
I owe her brother ; ample stock of which, 
Were't not thy own desert, the overflow 
Of that I feel for Constance would supply. 

Const. Good friend, accept 

Edw. Nay, there again ; I swear 

Const. Swear I am Constance, and believe it too, 
If 'twill but make you happy. 



CROMWELL. 37 

Edw. Would that she 

Could make me happy ! — But, Sir Philip, say 
What can be done ? 

Sir Ph. We needs must wait till time, 

Unable to conceal so great a fact 
As king's abode, shall open to our minds 
Fresh schemes. — 

Enter a Servant with a Letter. 

'Tis from the king. [Exit Servant. 

Edw. [kissing it] God bless the hand ! 

Each stroke of it outweighs a Roundhead's life. 

Sir Ph. Read, read, my friend ; my loyal sight is dim 
With tears of joy. [Wipes his eyes. 

Edw. Fm not quite sure mine own 

[Passes his hand across them. 
Is free from the soft imputation. [Reads. 

ce To our trusty and well-beloved servant Sir Philip 
Warwick, greeting. 

" Doubtless by this time you will have learned that 
your king is no longer the prisoner of Parliament. Vio- 
lence, it is true, has achieved my deliverance ; but the 
violence of friends is better than the gentle craft of foes. 
At present, I only surmise that I am proceeding to the 
army at Triplo Heath. When you can join me, I shall be 
anxious to profit by your ancient service. In haste, 

" Your faithful friend, Charles." 

Edw. Bless ev'ry royal word. [Kisses it. 

Sir Ph. [to Constance] Come, my young friend, 
We'll track the royal game, and once again 
Inhale the atmosphere we love. 

Edw. And I ? 

Sir Ph. Must follow still the prompting of your wit : 



38 CROMWELL. 

We both shall doubtless some permission gain 
To tend on Charles. 

Edw. Fll to my wonted trick 

Of profiting by opportunity. [Exeunt. 



SCENE V. 

The Camp at TriptoHeath ;( 12 ) assembly of Officers. Ireton, 
Harrison, Fleetwood, Pride, Lockier, &c. 

Har. It appeareth that from the Parliament we are to 
expect no favour. 

Fleet. Not even common rights. This is strange, 
since we have the means to enforce compliance with our 
petition. ( 13 ) 

Ire. As one of the Commissioners wisely enough ap- 
pointed by the House to examine and report upon the 
complaint of the army, I adhere to my openly avowed 
conviction that there are grievances in abundance, but no 
distempers. 

Har. The army is indebted to thee, noble Ireton, for 
thine independence — a quality somewhat rare in delegates 
from the Presbytery-ridden Parliament. 

Ire. I heed the Parliament less than mine own con- 
science, which doth shrink from accepting the avowal of 
distempers as the guide of our report. I deny the dis- 
tempers, and will tell them plainly that I find more dis- 
tempers in their House than in the army. 

Har. Wherefore has the people turned its heart against 
the House ? Wherefore has the army refused the exercise 
of the sword as unrighteous at the command of the House ? 
Even because iC the law is no more, and her prophets also 
find no vision/' 

Pride. Verily, because "they have taken a pledge 



CROMWELL. 39 

from their brethren for nought, and stripped the naked of 
their clothing." 

Har. They have denied the sanctuary of justice, and 
shall gather the vintage of the wicked. 

Ire. Wherefore, I say, is not this House respected ? 
Even because they inflict heavy taxes upon the nation, 
and divide large proceeds thereof among themselves. 
Even because they would disband the elect, who choose 
not to draw the unrighteous sword ; because they would 
impeach the generals ; because they abolished the truth- 
telling Exchequer tallies, and vested all authority in a 
committee of their creatures ; because an odious tax, called 
Excise, hath been established, and numerous innovations, 
savouring of the Stuart abominations. Yea, I affirm, 
albeit vested with its authority as Commissioner, that the 
Parliament hath deserved ill of all, but especially of the 
soldiers of the godly cause. Wherefore, ye do then agree 
unto the following resolution : [reads paper~\ " The king- 
dom calls upon us not to disband till we see the people's 
rights and liberties, and peace of the kingdom settled, 
according to the many declarations by which we were first 
called forth and invited to engage in the late war."( 14 ) 

All. We agree unto it. 

[Drums beat and trumpet sounds within. 

Ire. What^s this alarum'd with such pomp ? An' 
'twere a king, there could not be more ceremony. 

Lock. Some troops advance. 

Har. The very regiments I gave to Joyce, at Crom- 
well's command. [Drums. 

Enter Joyce and Soldiers. 

Joyce. Generals, good day. 

Har. What mighty charge hast thou, good Joyce, 
within this coach ? 
Ire. Who is't ? 



40 CROMWELL. 

Joyce. The king ! 

[Drums beat, soldiers present arms. 

Enter the King in an unglazed carriage, drawn by four 
horses, surrounded by guards. Flourish of trumpets ; 
all uncover, and testify the greatest surprise. 

Ire. The king ! Most strange ! I knew no note of 
this. 'Tis brave ! 

Har. Even the Stuart. 

[Charles alights, assisted by Joyce. 

Lock, [aside] None but Cromwell could do this. 

Bravo, deep general ! [Drums beat. 

Enter Fairfax hastily. 

Fair. Can this great news be true ? [uncovers, on 
seeing Charles] — Sire ! 

Ch. Lord Fairfax, I presume. What would you with 

your king ? 
Fair. I, sire ? I do protest mine ignorance of aught — 
Ch. Then, my lord general, wherefore am I here ? 
[Drums beat; cries of" Cromwell! Cromwell!" 
within. 
Lock. Here comes the solver of this riddle. [Aside. 

Enter Cromwell. 

Fair. My liege, I cannot, on my honour, say what 
this should mean. 

Crom. [advancing uncovered to Charles; in a low 
tone~] Sire, that alone can I. [Deliberately] The Parlia- 
ment abused ill-gotten power. [Complacently] The king is 
now 'mongst friends. 

[Points around ; all surprised. 

Lock. Such friends as cats are unto mice. [Aside. 

Crom. Generals, you more shall hear of this event, as 
onwards we advance. 



CROMWELL. 41 

Fair. Advance ! whither, good Cromwell ? This 

deed 

Crom. To London, good my lord. Sound then our 
trumpets ; let their brazen throats proclaim defiance to 
the Parliament. 

[General surprise. Drums and Trumpets. Cries of 
£i Cromwell, Cromwell !' } " To London !" — Cur- 
tain drops. 



END OF THE SECOND ACT, 



42 CROMWELL. 



ACT III. SCENE I. 



A View beneath the Walls of Reading Castle. (J) 
Enter Edward. 

Edw. What though they treat him with respect; 
permit 
His friends access to him ; 'tis but to blind 
TV ill-fated monarch to his wretched state. 
He must be freed. [Muses'] Should I gain entrance, art 
Alone can get the pris'ner out; he's watch'd 
By hungry Puritans. At all events, 
What craft cannot effect, that force shall do : 
Fll be provided with a stock of each. 
Now for the fourth attempt. This practice, sure, 
Should make me top perfection in the art 
Of freeing kings ; great Warwick never tried 
To make them more. Alack, my tongue e'er goes 
Far quicker than my plans. This shall succeed, 
Or, by St, George — another I must try. [Exit. 

Enter Obadiah, Grace-begotten, and, a little behind, 
Hezekiah Parsons. They walk and converse. 

Grace-beg. Of a verity, sagacious Obadiah, I see 
not wherefore we should have advanced with the army 
no further than this. 

Ob ad. It is not an advance, grave Grace-begotten, 
but even a retreat. 

Grace-beg. And before no enemy ! We were but lately 
at Triplo, then at St. Alban's, and now are at Reading. 

Ob ad. Yea, and by the orders of the Parliament. It 
appeareth unto me that Cromwell is possessed of an evil 
spirit, and doth conciliate the Presbyters. 

Hezek. I am of a mind to cast down the sword, and 



CROMWELL. 43 

take up my awl and last ; for, verily, my soul is pierced 
with the roughnesses of the way, and doth require healing. 

Obad. We meet anon to discourse further on this 
matter. I am forthwith to prayers at the godly Har- 
rison's. 

Grace-beg. And I to hold forth at the Abbey gate- 
house. 

Hezek. I must unto my watch at Caversham. 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE II. 

Ante-chamber of the House of Commons. 
Enter Hollis,( 2 ) Massey, Waller, Fleetwood, and 

others. 

Hol. Twould seem, though royalty has felt our 
strength, 
We're bearded by our servants. Even here 
Th' obstructed rule of Parliament despised 
As incompatible with war's stern code, 
Whose daring minions now usurp our sway. 

[Fleetwood is about to speak, but checks himself. 
The king cajoles us, and the army rules 
By overt treason or by subtlest fraud : 
They threatening march, we humbly kiss the sword. 
The gen'rals play the king against us, sirs ; 
And through him reach the sympathies of those 
Who otherwise had seen the state in us. 
Tamely to brook all this, we seal our doom. 

Mas. Our state is such as instant action claims; 
A fearful prospect lingers in delay. 

Hol. Fearful as when, upon its chilly throne 
Of snow, its buttresses of solid rock, 
The trembling avalanche doth to the eye 
Seem animate, and but one moment lies 
Betwixt the chance of life and grave of hope. 



44 CROMWELL. 

Fleet. Hollis turn'd poet ! Then his cause is lost.*— 

[Aside. 
Yet it behoves ye to examine well 
The nature of the claims the gen'rals urge. 
Especially Lord Fairfax. 

Hol. [sharply] Wherefore he ? 

But that at Cromwell's bidding he would stake 
The independence of this House. — You, sir, 

[To Fleetwood. 
His son-in-law, cannot perhaps conceive [Sarcastically. 
Our obligations to the general. 

[Fleetwood eyes him scornfully. 
To make Lord Fairfax general-in-chief [To Massey, fyc. 
Was to make Cromwell so. Who first defied 
The mandates of the Commons, but this lord ? 
The Self-denying ordinance ( 3 ) in vain 
Was passed, since Cromwell did retain his post. 

Fleet. This House did grant him absolution fronr't. 

Hol. Doubtless. Say, they who introduc'd the bill, 
T'achieve their own deep plans, did grant him leave. 
In verity, the Independent heart 
Wants but a fitting head ; and, mark my words, 
This simple Cromwell, second in command, 
Will raise his voice to more aspiring note 
Than craving to receive the senate's will. 
I know the man full well ; his iron soul 
Unbendingly pursues his well- traced path, 
Yet strews along' t the gentlest flow'rs of speech. 

Fleet. It well befits a Presbyter to doubt 
The grace which floweth from inspired lips. 

Hol. [contemptuously'] I doubt all such, obsequious 
sir. 

Fleet, [sternly] Hollis, 
Thy speech e'er savours of a bitter soul. 

Hol. [fiercely] Say rather of a bitter wrong per- 
form' d 



CROMWELL. 45 

Against the state. Shall I with meekness see 
The traitors daring plans assail that state 
Which we have sworn to save — are bound to bear 
Unharmed through the rocks which royalty 
Has scattered in the path ? If we must back 
Unto corruption, let it be to that 
Which time had almost reconcil'd — a king's. 
The House can yet a traitor's schemes defeat : 
The head impeach'd, the members droop and die. 

Enter Cromwell^ Fairfax, and Ireton. 

Fleet. Good my lord, thy presence is requir'd. 

Fair. So ! 

Have the Commons ratified the motion 
To disband the army ? 

Hol. Not yet, but will. 

Crom. \_sneeringly~] Indeed ! 

Hol. Ay, general, though a Cromwell frown. 

Crom. The time will come — not yet, my swelling 
heart. [Aside. 

Good sir, I pray thee pardon my blunt look, 

[To Hollis. 
Which doth but too well speak my inward heart ; 
Ever concerned that our carnal eyes 
Should be close shut unto the only light 
Which safely can direct our erring steps ; 
A light not kindled unto all mankind, 
Nor calculated for their seeking who 
Approve the outward thing of sense alone, 
Rather than the inward spiritual sign. 

Hol. What cant is this ! The hypocrite ! [Aside. 

Crom. My friends 

Fair. Good Cromwell, none do heed this man's dis- 
course ; 
'Tis but to try thee. 

Crom. I have oft been tried ; 



46 CROMWELL. 

Yea, even now have sore discomfiture 
Of mind, that all my zealous thoughts and acts 
Have fail'd to draw the army and this House 
Into more harmony. [Hollis and Massey eye him in- 
dignantly] Good Ireton here 
Can testify how far my zeal hath gone 
Towards the event. 

Ire. Ay, that indeed can I, 
And not a man shall dare to say 

Crom. [interposing'] Good friend, 

I need not now employ thy kindly voice 
To plead my cause. I do rely, indeed, 
Upon the good opinion of my friends, 
But rather would be smitten with their scorn, 
And be interpreted awrong, than sow 
The seeds of discord 'mongst these godly men, 
With whom the rather I would seek the Lord 
To save us from this strait, wherein enclos'd 
We forfeit all illumination, 
Being intent upon the worldly means, 
The rather than the spiritual end. 
Good Hollis, there's my hand. 

[Offers his hand, which Hollis scornfully refuses. 
Well, as thou wilt. 

Ire. Now, by my soul, thou art a sullen fool. 

Hol. Ireton, but that thou wear'st a sword, whilst I 
Am arm'd but with my reason, thou hadst ruM 
Thy brutal speech. 

Ire. Most base and savage fool ! 

Hol. ByHeav'n! Pll bear 

[A voice within — ee the Speaker." 

Ire. This, and much more, poltroon 

[Angry looks and confusion. 



CROMWELL. 47 

Enter the Speaker Lenthal^ and his train. All uncover ; 
they enter the centre door of the House. Massey and 
Waller,, in dumb shew, prevail upon Hollis to follow 
the Speaker. They look defiance, and enter. 

Crom. Ireton, thou hast done wrong with best intent. 

Ire. The knave did urge me to the biting speech. 

Fleet. Nay, my good friend, thou didst indeed 
espouse 
The gen'raVs cause with friendly interest. 

Crom. [Musing~\ Within my breast I feel the swelling 
germs 
Of some unshapM, yet potent mystery : 
Call it ambition, patriotism, craft, — 
It matters not; my country shall be savM. 
\_Aloud~] These carnal-minded and malignant men, 
Who rule the trembling state with selfish grasp, 
Must be displac'd. 

Fair. Cromwell, know'st what thou say'st ? — 

Displaced ! 

Crom. My lord, displac'd. By human means — 
By mine — by ours, I mean, my lord, must work 
The great salvation of our injur'd cause. 
Regen'rate spirits only can be free. 
Each private fund of passion doth o'erspread 
The gen'ral cause, without direction. 
Unto more prudent wills, more potent ones, 
Which can restrain each individual wrong, 
Subduing it to calculated right, 
All must be bent by well- dissembled force. 

Ire. We needs must be the soul of subtlety, 
Where snares abound. Our safety were alone 
Sufficient reason, since we cannot act 
As straightly as our deep intent doth point. 
We cannot work the good, and on our sleeves 



48 CROMWELL. 

Pin conscience, so that all may read our will; 
And thwart it. 

Crom. Till our plans are ripe, we halt. 

Fair. These schemes are bold. 

Crom. Bold deeds are barriers rais'd 

Betwixt discordant ages, to work out 
Some fresh direction of the human mind, 
And harmonise the scheme of governance. 
Shackles, discreetly forg'd, must firmly bind 
The restless arms of irreflection. 
The busy world is but the slave of slaves ; 
The least who hides his inward slavery. — 
I shall with greatest speed to Caversham, [To Fairfax. 
Where lie the seeds of yet undreamed success. 

[All enter the House but Cromwell, who leaves 
by a side-door. 



SCENE III. 

An Apartment in the Mansion of Caver sham. 

Enter Sir Philip Warwick, Constance as a Page, and 
Herbert. 

Sir Ph. Here I resume my office. 

Herb. The poor king 

Has few attendants in his fallen state. 

Sir Ph. But that his habits were most simple e'er, 
He had perceiv'd the diff'rence sore. All men 
Might learn of him economy of time 
And useless ceremony. With himself 
Severe unto unnecessary things, 
He would divide his day as though his bread 
Upon the right adjustment did depend. 

Herb. So good a man, so mild to all who servM 



CROMWELL. 49 

His greatness ; and, though naturally cold 

I' th' outward mien, he has a royal heart, 

Warmed unto nobility of act. Oft 

Have I heard him say — but lo, he comes. [He retires. 

Enter Charles. 

Ch. [to Sir Philip] Ha, 

Mine ancient friend. 

Sir Ph. [attempts to kneel] Sire, on thy royal hand — 

[The king raises him. 

Ch. Age has a privilege, my Warwick. Youth 
May thus kneel in token of its truth ; age, 
And trusty age like thine, has been well tried, 
And needs not ee make assurance doubly sure," 
Since we have treasur'd up remembrance keen 
Of bygone fealty. [Sees Constance.] This youth ? 

Sir Ph. Sire, no youth, 

But e'en a fair devoted dame d'honneur 
Of her most gracious highness, whose commands 
Have led her to attend your majesty. 

Ch. Indeed ! Sweet Henriette ! Advance, brave girl, 
And let me bid you welcome to our court; — 
Nay, *twas the ling'ring tongue of state spake thus ; 
We have no court, although the pride of one 

[Kindly takes her hand. 
Doth grace our solitude. Say, art thou not 
A daughter of the Veres of Tilbury ? 

Const. I am, my liege. 

Ch. I read it in thy face. 

Sir Philip, that Vandyk hath shrewdly drawn 
A fam'ly portrait ; for our grave old lord, 
Which hangs at Windsor, bears that brow, those eyes, 
Increas'd unto his ruder nature. 

Sir Ph. Sire, 

Your page doth bear a letter from the queen. 

Ch. Indeed! then wherefore prattle we of things 

E 



50 CROMWELL. 

So trite ? Good page, give me the letter, quick. 

[Takes the letter, and reads. 
Dear Henriette, thy cheering pen hath drawn 
A chain of roses all across my sight, 
Whose odour has benumb* d my manly sense, 
And melted me to tearful joy. [Reads again. 

Const. He weeps. 

Good king ! 

Sir Ph. ,r Tis seldom thus his firm-set heart 
Doth yield him unto tears. 

Const. His heart is full. 

Ch. O dreary doubt, thy bitter, bitter breath 
Doth blight the tender morn, and veil the eve ; 
Doth blanch each rosy hope, and from the draught of joy 
Distils the fragrance ; in the pearly eye 
Of love dulls the enamel, wherein shone 
The lustrous language of sweet sympathy, 
And bids the fever 'd lid shroud the fair wreck. 

[ The king, deeply moved, kisses the letter, and slowly 
retires. 

Sir Ph. How sweet the universal pow'r of love ! 

Const, [sighs'] Of love rewarded, good Sir Philip, ay. 



SCENE IV. 

A Wing of the Mansion at Caversham, amidst a French 
Garden. Within the entrance-porch are seen two stair- 
cases ; one leading to the upper apartments, another, 
shut in by an iron gate, descending to the dungeons. 

Ephraim Meadows mounting guard. 'Enter Edward 
disguised as a Puritan, hiding behind a trimmed box-plant. 

Edw. A right serviceable little wicket that. Sir Philip 
was right ; it was conveniently unguarded. One would 
have thought the place had been as close sealed as para- 



CROMWELL. 



51 



dise to Puritans. [Peeps out.'] Only one sentinel, and 
such a crow ! What in the name of roguery does it 
mean ? the king is surely here. Now for a bit of sanctity. 

[Comes forth. 

Eph. Verily, I am tired even as is Sathan, " from 
going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up and 
down in it/ 5 Who goeth there ? 

Edw. [in an assumed tone] A friend. [Advancing. 

Eph. Advance not, or thou shalt come to thy grave, 
like a shock of corn in a full age ; — nay, the rather in thy 
youth. 

Edw. Verily, friend, I mean thee no harm. I am 
one of the elect. 

Eph. Thy step is jaunty, and thy lengthy locks savour 
not of godliness ; wherefore retire. 

Edw. Nay, listen. 

Eph. I may not. Albeit not ancient in the righteous 
service, I do conceive my duty ; wherefore, again, retire. 

Edw. [advancing] My friend, accept this gold. 

[Offers a purse, 

Eph. Nay, thou wouldest corrupt me. Sathan, avaunt ! 
I may not suffer any to go out or come in to Asa king of 
Judah without permission. 

Edw. [off his guard] I want not your king of Judah, 
man, but the right royal Charles of England. 

Eph. Ha ! thou art a malignant. [Presents his gun.] 
Retire, or I discharge my weapon. 

Edw. [aside, rapidly] Bribery in vain ! come, stra- 
tagem and force. — [To sentinel] But hold, the royal pri- 
soner comes. 

[Ephraim turns his head and prepares to present 

arms, when Edward darts forward, and, seizing 

him by the collar, holds a pistol to his head. 

Now, friend Habbakuk or Jehozabad, I have thee. 

[Ephraim is about to call.] At thy peril call. One 

cry, and, ere it cleave the air, thy hypocritical brains shall 



52 CROMWELL. 

stifle it. Come in, my precious saint ; I'll see your king 
of Judah. Beware, I say; if you howl in the den where 
I shall take the liberty of locking your saintship, by my 

soul 

Eph. Verily, snares are round about me, and sudden 
fear troubleth me. 
[Exeunt through the doorway ■, and proceed down the steps. 



SCENE V. 

An Apartment in the Mansion at Caversham. 

Enter Charles. 

Ch. Cromwell must mean me well. The desperate act 
By which he freed my person, does bespeak 
Determination to espouse my cause 
Against the Parliament. Tis true, he led 
The adverse cause to victory : his post 
Obliged him to't. Were he but mine, Fd brave 
The tyrannous rebellious Parliament. 
For I do feel assur'd that body will 
But swell in insolence, upon consent 
To waive one single privilege of rule. 
Cromwell, since choice of ill must needs be made, 
Be thou the prop of England's king. So blunt, 
Thou canst not well be versed in craft ; thy mien 
Bears witness to a firm, yet faithful heart, 
Though tinctur'd with the madness of the time, 
Which mocks religion with outrageous zeal. 
Fll lean on thee, thou lion-hearted man, 
And honours shall await thee. 

Enter Edward hastily. 
Edw. [kneels~\ O pardon, sire ; thus, on my bended 
knee, 
I homage pay unto my sovereign. 



CROMWELL. 53 

Ch. Rise, youth, and, if your haste permit, explain 
Your rude, unauthorised presence here.( 4 ) 

Ed w. O sire, devotion to my king — his cause — 
My country's cause. Pardon, my liege ; but speed 
Will best interpret my intent. Fly, sire ; 
The gate unguarded, horses near at hand, 
And faithful guide — all, all prepared, 
Invites the step. This cloak, this hat, will screen 
Your royal form. 

Ch. Good youth, I thank you well ; 
Such loyalty deserves a king enthron'd : 
I am beholden to you, but have sworn 

Edw. Haste, sire ; footsteps approach. All, all is lost. 
[Hides himself behind a screen. Charles sits down. 

Enter Lockier. 

Lock. All safe ; 'tis well. Strange, that the sentinel 
Should be away : the booby shall be shot 
For this neglect. 'Tis well it is no worse. — 
[To Charles] Sire, from the Parliament this letter 
comes. [Gives it, 

Ch. Your diff'ring offices bespeak two truths 
At variance. From Cromwell come you oft, 
And yet do serve the Parliament. 

Lock. True, sire ; 

Until the issue of the strife be known, 
It is advisable to serve the two. 

Ch. Thou canst not serve two masters. 

Lock. Fain would I 

Serve but one, and he a king. 

Ch. Say you so ? — 

Yet is he faithless, prone to treachery : 
I'll trust him not. [Aside. 

Lock. These unnatural scenes 

[With feigned sorrow. 



54 



CROMWELL. 



Do weigh upon my heart, and I would strive 
To remedy the ill. 

Ch. [superciliously"] By what vast means ? 

Lock. The king should gain his freedom. 

Ch. Well, what then ? 

Lock. Then, from a place of safety, to send forth 
His largely framed pardon for the deeds 
Which had disturbed the royal functions. 

Ch. [aside'] How ev'ry knave can play the clement 
king ! — 
[Aloud] Spare further offer, since our word is pledged 
To the Lord Fairfax for our presence here, 
Until some further treaty shall upraise 
The throne unto its fitting state. 

Lock. An oath 

Is not a binding one which force obtain'd. 

Ch. [scornfully] Indeed ! we need not strictures on 
our oath. 
Can you then feel affection for the throne, 
That you would aid its restoration ? 
And are you not the gen'ral's confidant ? 

Lock. My liege, I do confess that with my heart 
I hold but little terms. A planning brain 
Doth minister successfully to wants 
Ever increasing. Wherefore weigh me not 
In stern integrity's restrictive scales ; 
But rather view mine offer as the cause 
Of a king's freedom, and th' effect of — nought. 
I did not boast of love unto your house ; 
I did propose a fitting plan to save 
The glory of that house. Mine own reward, 
Proportion' d to the value of the deed, 
To be secur'd before th' attempt. 

Ch. [aside] The knave ! 

Betray his master for a purse of gold, 
And one confiding in his honesty ! 



CROMWELL. 55 

Lock, [anxiously'] I wait an answer, please your 
majesty. 

Ch. What answer would you ? your insidious speech 
Is e'en self-answer'd. Dare you tempt a king 
To forfeit honour ? Has not Cromwell ta'en 
Our royal word that we abide the end 
Of treaties. Slave, thy treachery doth speak 
Thine inward heart as false and black. 

Lock, \_aghasf] 'Sdeath, I am foiPd. Mine honest 
king, beware ; 
A traitor can prepare a monarch's grave. — [Aside. 

[Assuming composure] Nay, sire, I said this but to try 
your truth. 

[Edward comes from behind the screen. 
A spy ! by hell, I am betrayed ! 

Edw. [to Lockier] Cromwell 

Shall hear of this. 

Ch. Nay, let him go. 

Lock. Revenge 

Most bloody shall pursue them both. Poor fools ! 
My sparkish Cavalier is but a blow 
Of undisguised sword. The king shall rue 
The day he dared to spurn my subtlety. [Exit hastily. 

Ch. Brave youth, farewell ; thy well-intended zeal 
Shall be remembered. [Exit. 

Edw. Failure the fourth ! 

Nay, 'tis not I have faiPd, but e'en the king. 
Now to release the sentinel, and make 

[Examines his pistols. 
Him swear, through fear of pistol arguments, 
To aid me in my exit, should I need 
Other device than force. My king, farewell. 

[Exit. 



56 CROMWELL. 



SCENE VI. 



Exterior of Caver sham. Another Sentinel on guard. 
Enter Lockier. 

Lock. Confusion ! to be foiled, and by a king ; one 
made by nature to be duped. [Meditates] Ha ! the plan 
is good. — [To the sentinel] Hezekiah Parsons, be wary 
at thy post ; thou hast strict orders to. prevent all access 
to the proud malignant king. Mark me, even now a 
traitor has gained admittance. He is disguised as one of 
the'elect ; wherefore, an' thou seest a form — unless it be 
the king^s for his accustomed walk — an 5 thou seest a 
form dressed like unto us emerge from yonder door, fire 
instantly, and let the traitor die. — [Aside] Even the king 
should pay me thus, but that I reserve his honest majesty 
for worthier fate. — Be wary, Parsons ; stand further from 
the portal, take cool aim, and fire firmly, man. [Exit. 

Hezek. Verily, mine office is not gracious; I like 
not thus to slay even a malignant. Yet am I a watchman 
in the house of Israel. Obedience is my duty; albeit 
the godly Grace-begotten proveth clearly that we are all 
equal, and should only perform unto our liking. [Edward 
is seen proceeding down stairs ; he opens the iron gate at 
the bottom, and descends.] Ha ! I do hear a step. Tis 
he, perchance. Nay, he is gone. I will await his coming 
out to smite him. 

[Ephraim is now seen coming up backwards through 
the dungeon-door, looking at Edward, who holds 
a pistol at him. 

Eph. Of a verity, I am [Appears at the porch. 

Hezek. 'Tis he. 

[Fires at Ephraim, who falls, exclaiming " Slain !" 
whilst Edward rushes forward, and, presenting 
a pistol at Hezekiah's throat, drags him to the 
dungeon-door and thrusts him in, locking it, and 
throwing down the key. 



CROMWELL. 57 

Eph. Help ! I am slain. 

Edw. I am sorry for thee, thou crop-ear ; but self- 
preservation is the first law. Howl on, and ^larum all 
your crows. Now for the secret door. [Exit hastily. 

[Enter quickly Lockier and guards. Scene closes. 



SCENE VII. 

Interior of Caversham. 
Enter Charles and Sir Philip Warwick. 

Ch. You have seen Cromwell,, then ? 

Sir Ph. My liege, I have. 

Ch. Did you enlarge upon our offers ?( 5 ) 

Sir Ph. Sire, 

I did attempt t' invest with fitting grace 
Your majesty's behest. 

Ch. Did Cromwell seem 

Inclined unto our schemes ? did rank in view 
Unknit his rugged brow, and did his tongue 
Anticipate nobility by speech 
Of courtly tone ? 

Sir Ph. Slight change betokened, sire, 
The secret working of his mind. His eye 
At first betray' d a brief complacency, 
Which speedily was lost in a deep look 
Of humble gratulation, that the king 
Inclined unto him. 

Ch. Surely the earldom 

Of Essex, a warrior title, and one 
Which would raise Cromwell to a lofty state, 
Should have effect upon a simple mind, 
One quite unus'd to grandeur ? 

Sir Ph. Sire, this man 

Is made of sterner stuff than to betray 
The outward longings of an inward love ; 



58 CROMWELL. 

His mastery of mien is wonderful ; 
He can look all things. 

Ch. Then I know him not; 

I took him for a bold, but simple man. 

Sir Ph. My liege, he comes. — With England's for- 
tunes charged. [Aside. 

Enter Cromwell. 

Ch. Cromwell, I thank you for your ready will 
In my behalf, since I must needs be suitor. 

Crom. Sire 

Ch. [ironically] Wherefore sire to me ? 

Crom. It is thy due. 

Ch. Indeed ! I had forgotten I was king, 
Nor is it kind to force me back upon't. 
Where is my title written ? where my state ? 

Crom. Thy title still the same ; thy state obscurM 
But for the time, to be renew'd 

Ch. Destroy'd, 

Say rather ; for the might of kings assail'd 
By faction's hand, is sullied, and decay 
Follows close upon the canker. 

Crom. My liege, 

The breath of Heav'n, which spares not even kings, 
Hath overcast thy royal house. 

Ch. The breath 

Of faction, general, not the breath of Heav'n. 
I was th' anointed king, and am so still, 
Although the state be gone which did invest, 
Not constitute my pow'r. I do forget 
That unto Cromwell's will, beneath constraint, 
I owe the promised sweetness of this hour. 

Crom. Thou hast, sire, but to breathe a single wish 
That I, the humblest of the state, can grant, 
In the name of England's Parliament 

Ch. Hold, 



CROMWELL. 59 

Sir gen'ral ; from that rebellious House 
We shall receive no courtesy. I stand 
Superior to its mandates — I, its king — 

I, who can annul its pow'r — I they come ; 

Praise be to God for this. 

Enter the Duke of Gloucester and Princess 
Elizabeth,^) with Herbert. 

Eliz. Dear, dear papa. 

Ch. [embracing them] My children, welcome to my 
wounded heart, 
Whole in nought else but love for you. Sweet balm ! 
And thou, my pretty Bess, my darling girl ; 
My noble boy. Wherefore my other joys 
Not here ? [Takes Elizabeth on his knee. 

Eliz. O dear papa, 'tis long since we have met. 
You look not well, papa ; and your nice hair 
Is sadly rough [smooths it] ; and here, I do declare — 

Henry, look, 5 tis streak'd with odious grey. 

Ch. [mournfully] Is it, my child ? Forerunner of the 
white, 
Which time anticipates by searing cares. 

Eliz. Nay, if mamma were here she'd Herbert scold 
For inattention. When wilt come home, papa? 

Ch. Soon, soon, dear Bess. — Cromwell, dost hear that 
name ? 

1 had almost forgot I had a home, 

Till nature prob'd the memory of my heart. 
General, I crave your pardon, if my tongue, 
Taught latterly in camp and prison, fail'd 
In the thanks of a paternal heart. 

Crom. Sire, 

Be thus the father of thy people. 

Ch. Henry, 

My fine boy, why gaze upon me thus ? Smile, 



60 



CROMWELL. 



And I shall know thee for the joyous Glo'ster 
Who beat poor baby Charles papa( 7 ) at play. 

Glo. I've done with play, papa ; I now will fight, 
Like brothers Charles and James. 

Ch. Fight ! wherefore, boy ? 

Glo. Fight all who injure dear mamma. 

Ch. Who does ? 

Who told thee of all this ? 

Glo. Herbert did so. 

He told me dear mamma was gone abroad 
To help my brothers beat the wicked men. 

Ch. Nay, Glo'ster, Herbert's wrong to tell thee so. 
[Sternly at Herbert] He should be wiser than to wound 

the hearts 
He cannot heal. Herbert was jesting then. 

Eliz. Nay, was he not ; for tears did fill his eyes, 
And scarcely could he speak for grief. 

Ch. [moved] Good Herbert 

[Herbert falls on his knee, and kisses Charles's 
proffered hand. 
We'll change the theme. Glo'ster, why fix thine eyes 
On Cromwell thus ? 

Glo. Papa, I like him not. 

[Keeping close to his father. 

Ch. My child, and wherefore ? he'll not harm thee, 
boy. 

Glo. Nor thee, papa, I hope. 

Ch. Cromwell, forgive 

His idle prattle, he knows not the world. 

Crom. Young prince, 't were better far thou never 
didst : 
It is a piteous spot, a vale of tears, 
Where erring men do linger out sad lives. 

When thy young head 

[Lays his hand on the child's head. 



CROMWELL. 61 

Glo. [shrinking] Papa, I like him not ; 

O shelter me from his affrighting look. 

Ch. Nay, boy, look up. Had I no deeper foe 
Than Cromwell here 

Eliz. Papa, my brother Charles 

Often has said Cromwell's a wicked man, 
And all the Roundheads rogues. 

Crom. [aside] The child's well taught. 

Ch. Forgive the prattling girl ; her brother Charles 
Is rash, and unaccustomed to the ways 
In which untoward circumstance doth warp 
Most honourable hearts. 

Crom. Full well, my liege, 

Youth may be pardon'd, when our age mature 
Sins with a thoughtless, yet relentless will. — 
Sweet child, may all thy fears end here ! 

Ch. My boy, 

The deepening colour of the time doth stain 
Men's visages, and meditation sits 
Upon their beetling brows. The general 
Does play importantly upon the stage, 
And wears an aspect suited to the tone 
Of men's discourse : not light as thine, my child ; 
Thy summer-clouds a single smile will chase, 
And deepest dolour vanish with a kiss. 

Crom. Sire, may this tender meeting be the type 
Of England's union with its sovereign ! [Retiring, 

Ch. Cromwell, I cannot part with them as yet. 

Crom. Sire, an' it please thee, they remain. 

Ch. Indeed ! 

Unhop'd for joy. 

Glo. Papa, shall we then stay? 

Crom. Ay, sweet prince. 

Glo. Nay then, sir, I pardon ask. 

[Going towards Cromwell. 



62 CROMWELL. 

You seem much fairer to my brighten'd eyes ; 
I am not; truly, now afraid of you. [Offers his hand. 

Crom. Sire, I respectfully do take my leave. 
Ch. Thanks, noble Cromwell, thanks; to thee my 
heart 
Owes all its fulness, half of which accept 
In payment of this deed. My Lord of Essex 

[With emphasis. 
Shall this day requite. — [Exit Cromwell. 

My children, bless you ! 
[Charles gazes at the children, kisses them, and 
they retire. 

SCENE VIII. 

The Meeting-place of the Levellers at Caversham. 
Enter Lockier. 

Lock. An' I but lay the snare, they will walk into it, 
as though they marched into their own Jerusalem. But, 
the king — the king's the foremost in my mind. If I be 
not revenged on that proud man, I am no fit plotter for 
these times. Reject mine offer, and in such terms ! Let 
me betray myself, and before that rattling Cavalier ! I 
thought my plans had been laid deep enough. Have I 
not, contrary to Cromwell's orders, made Charles feel his 
imprisonment, that he might leap at freedom ; and after 
all to be foiled ! I'll be revenged — my scheme is sure — 
no eye, not e'en a licensed scrivener's, can detect the 
forgery. Those letters of the king, taken at Naseby, have 
taught me how to write the word revenge in most en- 
during characters. And soon to lay the London train. 
It must not, shall not fail. [Takes out a paper. .] Now to 
destroy the copy of this valuable document. Hold ! it 
may be useful yet; a quick revenge drops half its venom. 



CROMWELL. 63 

Enter Obadiah, Grace-begotten, and Levellers, 

Grace-beg. Friend Lockier, I have pondered on thy 
discourse, and it doth strike me, that if we do but wait 
until it shall please Providence to aid us, we shall avoid all 
violent procedure. 

Lock. Well, as ye please; be the hirelings of the 
Parliament, an* ye will. 

Grace-beg. Nay, that will I not be ; for I do hold, 
that to bear the sword of Goliath the Philistine, or any 
other ungodly warrior, is an utter abomination. Albeit 
I would leave the issue of the event to the Power which 
disappointeth the devices of the crafty, so that their hands 
cannot perform their enterprise. v - 

Ob ad. Verily, brother Grace-begotten, I incline not 
unto thy opinion ; for I do opine, that it behoveth us not 
to wait and perish for lack of food, owing to the iniquity 
of the Parliament in not paying our lengthy arrears. I do 
conceive, that they that be slain with the sword are better 
than they that be slain with hunger, for these pine away, 
stricken through for want of the fruits of the field. We 
are encumbered with sundry scores ; and even master 
Sipkin of the Blue Boar doth refuse to hearken unto us, 
which is of consequence when we again proceed unto 
London. 

Grace-beg. Yea, I do perceive the evil. 

Lock. Verily, brethren, it is a crying evil ; it doth 
injure our reputation, and no man hath a right to compel 
us to the self-sacrifice. 

Grace-beg. I do mistrust our situation. The Lord 
General Fairfax is of a doubtful godliness ; he hath not 
the fervour of the elect; he hath espoused the daughter 
of a malignant. Yea, even Oliver Cromwell, albeit of a 
sometime godly turn, doth, 1 fear, betray us to the Par- 
liament. 

Ob ad. Verily, he hath lately shewn, by his reported 
discourse, a leaning towards the Stuart, which ill assorteth 



64 CROMWELL. 

with his avowed devotion to the cause of the elect, and to 
the dominion thereof. 

Lock. He hath imbibed the lukewarmness of Fairfax. 
— [Aside] It works ; Cromwell should be at hand. 

Grace-beg. We are his equals in spiritual rank, and 
will refuse to do his bidding. 

Lock, [aside] Ay, but not a second time. 

Ob ad. He hath deserted the well affected, and hath 
imbibed the rottenness of heart-malignants. 

Grace-beg. He hath deserved to be wiped from the 
list of the saints. 

All. He hath. 

Grace-beg. He hath fallen back unto idolatry, yea, 
even unto the flesh-pots and abominations of Egypt. 

All. Yea, he hath. 

Lock, [aside] 'Tis bravely brewing; 'twere a safe 
bet on Cromwell's smallest deed against their mightiest 
speeches. More fuel to the fire. — [Aloud] Hath he not 
proceeded unto Parliament without the other Commis- 
sioners ? doubtless to tell his own tale and make his own 
bargain. 

Grace-beg. He doth deserve our anathema. 

All. He doth. 

Ob ad. He doth deserve to be smitten before Israel. 

All. He doth. 

Grace-beg. I would confront him : I would order 
my cause before him, and fill my mouth with arguments. 

Ob ad. I would smite him on the hip, that he gather 
the vintage of the wicked. 

Enter Cromwell, disguised as a Puritan ; he advances 
to Obadiah. 

Grace-beg. I also would smite him on the hip. 
Cromwell is but a malignant, and ^tis fit he perish. 
Verily, I would smite him on the hip. 

[Cromwell 5to^. General surprise. Enter sol- 
diers. He throws off his cloak, and discovers himself. 



CROMWELL. 65 

Crom. Behold, even now he confronteth thee ; smite 
him, an^ thou wilt. [Collars Grace-begotten, and 
throws him from him] O carnal fool, let me shake the 
offending Satan from thee. — Lockier, eject him from this 

godly meeting : thou wilt find means without to 

Whispers Lockier. 
[Exit Lockier and Grace-begotten betiveen 

two soldiers. Cromwell pauses, and gazes 

sternly at the Levellers. 
Of a verity, I fain could weep : tears, 
Tears of blood could scarce suffice 
To speak my suffering zeal. The holy work 
Craves union of soul and arm ; ye waste 
The gifts, the precious gifts of banded strength, 
In carnal ways ; do split the prop of truth 
Into unworthy and impotent staves, 
Which bend, beneath the weight of sin. For shame ! 

[Firing is heard without. 
[Clasps his hands'] Zion ispurg'dof one offending soul. — 
[To Obadiah, collaring him] Go thou, and sin no more : 

thy life is spared. — 
[To the rest] O ye misguided, ones ! go, read on him 
The revelation of the law of blood, 
Which doth demand a life for life. Mine own 
Is worthless, but that I may carry out 
Mine own and England's deep salvation. 

[Points to the back of the stage, ivhere, about this 

time, Lockier reappears with soldiers ; bringing 

in the body of Grace-begotten covered with a 

cloak. Curtainfalls. 



END OF THE THIRD ACT. 



Cy6 



CROMWELL. 



ACT IV. SCENE I. 

An Apartment in Cromwell's House. 
Cromwell and Lockier. 

Crom. Art thou positive, good Lockier, of the fact ? 

Lock. Ay, general, as certain as though I had written 
the letter myself : I overheard the whole scheme. 

Crom. But 'tis months since ; even before I went to 
Scotland with the troops against Duke Hamilton.^) 

Lock. It was so, general. The prudent king did 
wait the favourable opportunity of prince Charles's pro- 
mised cruise in the channel, which even now is notified. 

Crom. 'Tis strange. His correspondence with the 
queen was free. 

Lock. Mayhap the substance of this choice epistle is 
freer still. 

Crom. Where has the letter lain all this time ? 

Lock. An ancient servant of the king had charge of 
it, and through him I gleaned the secret of the Blue Boar 
and saddle. — [Aside] 'Tis lucky I was prepared for being 
catechised. 

Crom. 'Tis well. Where sayest thou the carrier will 
be met ? 

Lock. In Holborn, sir. An' it please thee, my humble 
service will direct thy steps. 

Crom. Thanks, honest Lockier. Prithee, send me 
Colonel Pride, who waits without. 

Lock, [aside] Now, my honest king, I have thee in 
the toils. [Exit. 

Crom. [musing] In Hollis we had no unmanly foe, 
But one who fain would hurl upon our heads 
The latest vengeance of the Parliament. 
Traitors proclaim' d, we had no other course 
Than to sink treason in success. He fell. 



CROMWELL. 67 

Justice now wields the soldier's daring sword. 
Perchance the kindling fires of patriot breast 
May yield unto ambition's blasts. Ha, Pride ! 

Enter Colonel Pride. 

I would renew with thee the subject broach'd. 
Oft have I prayed that this painful deed 
Be not to do ; or, if it must be done, 
From sore and sad occasion, wrongs uncur'd, 
Authority outstepp'd, and grasping craft, 
That other hand than mine should be ordain* d 
To pluck the evil out. 

Pride. Thine own, good gen'ral, 

Is the appointed hand to work the cure. 

Crom. I feel it ; yet would fain have left undone 
What evil tongues may clamour forth as sin. 
Yet, verity, we live to do the work 
Unflinchingly. But to the point, good Pride : 
With two pick'd reg'ments, Independent ones — 
Dost mark me, Colonel ? — Independents ; none 
Presbyterian-hatch' d, but thorough men, 
Who scruple only on the godly side — [Smiling. 

Invest the House, and lay thy hand on those 
Who fain would enter ; save of the elect, 
Who have alone a mission in the place. 

Pride. By what authority shall this be done ? 

Crom. By mine — by Heaven's, good Pride. Let it 
succeed. 
Thou shalt be shielded in the useful work ; 
Lord Grey of Groby shall ostensibly 
Be seen the foremost in command ; whilst I, 
Who am, in truth, of small account, do stand 
Absolved, as bound unto Lord Fairfax's will. 
On then, good Pride. May Heaven guide thy steps 
Unto this den of Philistines ; farewell. [Exit Pride. 

The Parliament must fall ; my own security, 



68 CROMWELL. 

Now launch'd upon a sea of doubt, doth prompt 

The seizing of the helm. Each wind that blows 

Brings forth; in skilful pilots, fresher skill, 

And chances far more definite than shone 

Athwart the one-toned tempest, whose deep voice 

Drown'd all the whisperings of hope. 'Tis strange 

That thus the wonted majesty of kings 

Should swerve in fortune's balance, and bequeath 

No legacy of right ; leave ev'ry thing 

To chance ; and on the smallest point 

Balance dominion. Fate doth surely mean 

To make mine own what I have seen in dreams, 

In visions, waking visions, indistinct 

In all the detail, but the sum of pow'r 

Co-equal with my wish. The evil one 

Perchance doth tamper with my soul. 'Fore Heav'rij 

I would not so, yet must I on. My fate, 

Ordain'd, though not full clear, still urges more. [Exit. 



SCENE II. 

An Apartment in Lord Fairfax's Mansion. 
Enter Lady Fairfax and Mrs. Cleypole. 

Lady F. Dear mistress Cleypole, pardon me these 
tears, 
Since e'en this letter, with assurance fraught 
Of dearest Constance's continued health 
And safety, doth not clear the mystery. 
I cannot harbour 'gainst herself one doubt ; 
But would she were returned. 

Mrs. C. Would that she were ! 

Sad are the changes since we left the north : 
The good we hop'd for is all turn'd to ill ; 
And freedom veils her brow with angry clouds, 
The harbingers of darker deeds. 'Tis sad 



CROMWELL. 69 

To find deceit nurs'd in the lap of hope, 

And where we most did hope find most deceit. 

Lady F. My lord is sorely grieved at the dire turn 
Events have ta'en, and firmly is resolv'd 
To temper them with mercy. Newport wiles 
Have open'd wide his eyes to a full sense 
Of all the hate which doth pursue the king. 

Mrs. C. Well pleased am I my father was not there : 
His arms, victorious in Scotland, threw 
The adverse cause aback, whilst treachery 
Wrought evil here at home. They say the king 
During the treaty did display such keen 
And manly conduct, that they made his skill 
A further reason for some stricter bond 
Between the monarch and the Parliament. 
Alone, he steered the royal vessel through 
The rocky bed of the debate ; and urg'd 
With so much mildness such uncommon thoughts, 
As would have baffled aught but ruthless might 
Bent on a dark design. 

Lady F. ^Tis somewhat new, 

Sweet mistress, thus to praise the king. 

Mrs. C. Too new ; 

Since liberty hath ting'd with gall each spring 
From which its waters fiowM. 

Enter Lord Fairfax. 

Fair. Ladies, good day. 

Mrs. C. We talk'd e'en now, my lord, of the poor 
king 
At Newport, and the arts of enmity. 

Fair. The treaty finished thus convinces me 
The Parliament, both rash and insincere, 
Is predetermined in its future course. 
Charles granted all, nay, more than prudence urg'd, 
And but refus'd to yield confiding friends 



70 CROMWELL. 

Unto the axe., and to destroy that church 
Which he had sworn to cherish and uphold. 
'Tis well the die was cast on firmest grounds : 
Had aught of personal or private weal 
Thus guided his rejection of the claims, 
He had been open to the double tax 
Of friends and foes. 

Enter a Servant. 

Serv. My lord, your horses saddled await you in the 
court. [Exit. 

Fair. Ladies, farewell; let's hope for better times. 

[Exit. 

Lady F. We'll hope, indeed, since little else is left ; 
Of hope itself we may be soon bereft. [Exeunt. 

SCENE III. 

Interior of the Blue Boar. Sipkin drinking and reading 
the newspaper. 

Sip. [reads'] (e Then let the Cavaliers up tune 

their sweeter notes } & sing 
Their Downefall with the end of Iune, 

the glory of our king. 
A health then to the Royall Stock 

the King, Prince, Duke and Queen ; 
Heaven send such early to the block 

as false to them have been.'* 

Well said, my fine Mercurius Elencticus ! 1*11 wash down 
the honest wish. [Drinks.] Marry, if self-praise be no great 
commendation, I fear me self-drink is no great profit to a 
tapster. V faith, an' I turn not Roundhead, I must down 
with my bush, for your Cavaliers are mighty poor now-a- 

days ; and a bush that gathers no wool Ha, ha! friend 

Sipkin, thou art a wag, and shalt be rewarded for thy joke. 
[Drinks.'] They say, "good wine needs no bush; 5 ' it's a 



CROMWELL. 7 1 

lie : it needs be pointed out, and, many, what but the 
bush does that kindly office ? [Drinks.] Folks are infi- 
nitely indebted to y'r bush. Now the army of most re- 
ligious crows is quartered at Whitehall and St. James's, I 
shall have custom enough. Your saint goes to a distance 
to drink, that the walk home may sober him. [Starts tip] 
Anon, sir ! Eh ! what, did no one call ? Then somebody 
ought to haA'e called. Talking of calling, the pride and 
delicacy of my calling is gone. We have nothing in these 
crabbed days of reform but dull, straightforward drink- 
ing; no careful cognisance of choice liquors. Your for- 
lorn drawer hath a heavy vocation : he sets you down 
right merrily your better sorts of wine ; but your Puritan 
stuff — pshaw ! And then where are your brave dinners ? 
No more roast swans, nor peacocks garnished with leaf 
gold, nor your famous conceit of live birds in a pie, nor 

your any thing, in fact, as was wont to be. It is as 

much as I can do to introduce a bare baron of beef with 
any credit. Nay ; but Fll take to broad bands and strait 
turnover, ( 2 ) and wed the vixen Time instead of servanting 
her. 

Enter Lockier. 

Lock. Hark ye, master Sipkin, now I've paid my 
score, thou^lt probably not be averse to retain my custom. 

Sip. Why, as to the matter of that, Captain Lockier, 
my private arrangements are private, look ye, and my 
public entertainment for man and beast — [aside] that 
is, Cavalier and Roundhead — is public, look ye ; and as 
long as the bush swings at my post, and the drawer cries, 
£i Anon, sir \" you^ll find good liquor at the Blue Boar. 
Only, Master Lockier, as the great Audley,( ;3 ) the prince 
of usurers, has it, u short scores make long friends." 

Lock. Ay, ay, Fll consent to use thy house, with 
this bargain, that thou art as close as a committee of the 
Exchequer ( 4 ) upon all I say or do within thy walls. 



72 CROMWELL. 

Sip. An' you burn not my tables and benches, beat 
not my drawers, preach not modesty to my wenches, 
crack not my crowned cups, nor play at quintain with my 
wassail bowls, — an 5 you confine yourself to the ordinary 
demonstrations of satisfaction with my good liquor, I care 
not. 

Lock. Tut, man, I've other thoughts than revelry. 

Sip. [aside] I warrant you, a more likely man to 
crack a skull than a joke ; but his carolus is as good as a 
better man's. — [Aloud] Is't true, master Lockier, that it's 
all up with the poor king ? 

Lock. Ay, is it, a stubborn fool ! 

Sip. Did he not give way to the commissioners with 
a grace ? did he not sign away piecemeal his authority ? 

Lock, Needs must when but did he not, mine 

honest vintner, stickle at the very two of the greatest 
consequence amongst the stipulations ? 

Sip. Ay, to his honour ! 

Lock. Ay, to his head ! 

Sip. Nay, Heaven forefend ! 

Lock. Amen. Had he but given up a few debauched 
Cavaliers, and relaxed a few grains of Church discipline, 
he might have 

Sip. Been a king ! 

Lock. He might have been — whatever the Parliament 
chose. 

Enter Ephraim Meadows. 

Eph. The general is returned, master Lockier, and 
doth demand to see thee. 

Lock. Ay, marry, now the work begins. [Exit. 

Eph. Friend Sipkin, albeit thou art living darkly, I 
will not refuse to drink with thee. 

Sip. Friend Stiff-gills, that talkest so lightly, I will 
not refuse thy coin, an 5 it be made in the mint. 



CROMWELL. 73 

Enter Edward. 

Edw. Sipkin, my man, I am athirst ; go, fetch me 
wine. 

Sip. Sack or canary will yon, sir ? 

Edw. Either, man, either; this is no time to choose 
liquors, save it be to drown Roundheads in. [Exit Sipkin.] 
Deeper the shadows roll about the king. O that my arm 
could save him ! but hope seems lost in the darkness. 
I once thought Cromwell was the vile contriver of these 
deeds ; but all these late atrocities have passed while he 
was butchering in the north. He^s as subtle as a fiend, 
or else he's much belied. Pshaw, he's a saint ! — [Turns, 
and sees Ephraim] What, ho, my inkstand crown, my 
scrivener- scratch' d visage. 

Eph. Sir, I understand thee not; thy sudden and 
unprovoked fierceness cloth surprise, but not alarm me. 

Edw. [rising] What, thou living tombstone, thou 
half-brother to an owl, thou worst feature of a night- 
mare, [raises his glove] let me batter thy crown as thou 
hast battered England's. [Stri/ces him. 

Re-enter Sipkin, with ale and wine. 

Sip. What, ho, my spark royal, are you warmed 
before your liquor ? 

Edw. Pshaw, I was rash : here^s money, thou night- 
shade . [ Offers purse. 

Eph. I will none of it. 

Sip. [seizing it] Marry, then will I. It goes to thy 
score, my master. 

Eph. Verily, he hath poured out his fierce anger, and 
kindled a fire in Zion, and it hath devoured the founda- 
tions thereof. 

Sip. Tush, man, quench it then with this ale. 

[Edward sits aloof. 

Eph. I do conceive this gallant is even he of Caver- 
sham. 



74 CROMWELL. 

Enter Obadiah. 

Ob ad. Ephraim Meadows, hast thou seen Captain 
Lockier ? 

Eph. Yea, even now he was here. 

Ob ad. I have lost sight of him since he accompanied 
the general to Scotland. Nevertheless, I have not lost 
sight of my revenge; I will deal with him even as his 
iniquity deserveth. 

Eph. I owe him little thanks ; for through his devices 
was I sorely wounded by my own intimate, Hezekiah 
Parsons, who fired at me in the garden of Caversham. 

Ob ad. Ay ! how was that ? 

Eph. Verily, it is a strange and confused tale; I 
cannot fathom it. Wherefore should Lockier invite him 
to assault me ? 

Ob ad. Did'st thou not march under Rainsborrow into 
Southwark, when the Speakers were brought back in 
triumph by the army ? ( 5 ) 

Eph. Nay, I was upon a bed of sickness. 

Ob ad. Well then, Ephraim, wilt thou join with me in 
avenging poor Grace-begotten Earnshaw's death ? It was 
clearly murder. 

Eph. Yea, will I, for I had nearly perished through 
him. [They retire, and sit down. 

Enter Sir Philip Warwick, and Constance still as 

a page. 

Sir Ph. Alas, my gentle Julius, hope is gone ! 
The king again is seizM, and sent to Hurst, 
There to be more a prisoner. Our cares 
No longer have a scope. 

Const. [see« Edward] Ha! Edward here? 
Sir Philip, Mr. Moreton yonder sits, 
In deepest thought enwrapt. 

Sir Ph. Good day, my friend. 



CROMWELL. 75 

Edw. Nay, dear sir, all is chang'd to bad ; bad day, 
Bad hour, bad ev'ry moment that we live. 
[Sees Constance] Julius, dear, dear friend, I crave thy 

pardon, 
But my poor sight dwells on a hideous spot 
Which puts it out, and disappointment deep 
Hath turned the current of my blood. Sweet youth, 
How fares thy sister ? 

Const. Well. 

Edw. 'Tis well some news 

Can quicken this sad heart. Alas, the king 
Is lost ! A last attempt at Carisbrooke 
I did essay, which adverse fate annull'd. 
When hope so brightly shone, that Charles himself 
From out his dungeon had well nigh emerg'd, 
An unforeseen impediment did stay 
The glorious consummation of the plan : 
Backwards within his loathsome cell he dropt, 
With groan so piteous, that my heart did shrink 
As though I had been plotting 'gainst his life, 
And not to save it. 

Sir Ph. Ah, my gen'rous friend, 

Pity it is that groan were not his last, 
Since deeper far do yet remain behind. 

Edw. Sir Philip, will you with me ? I have words 
Fitter for private ear than public. — Friend, 

[Takes Constance's hand. 
Dear friend, come breathe thy sister in mine own. 

[Exit, with Sir Philip and Constance. 

Ob ad. Verily, the malignants do appear perturbed. 

Enter Joyce. 

Good sir cornet, art thou fresh from Westminster ? 

Joyce. Ay, am I, and fresher for the brave news : 
hast heard it ? 

Ob ad. Nay. 



76 CROMWELL, 

Joyce. Thou hast doubtless seen the Colonel Pride, 
the inspired drayman. 

Ob ad. Yea, verily ; what of him ? 

Joyce. Listen, and thou shalt hear. At the appointed 
time of meeting at the Commons' House, a strong detach- 
ment occupied the avenues thereof, and proceeded unto 
the holy work. 

Ob ad. What holy work ? I know not of it. 

Joyce. Of cleansing the Parliament of Presbyterians, 
even more summarily than were impeached the eleven 
leaders of that worldly body in the month of August of 
the last year. 

Ob ad. Nay, it was in June, even before the Speakers 
did seek the army. 

Joyce. Thou dost say rightly ; for in August did one 
of them, Sir Philip Stapleton, die of the plague in a ditch, 
like a soulless dog, on the French coast. 

Ob ad. But to thy news. 

Joyce. Ay, it is too good to be untold. As the con- 
demned members did approach, Pride exercised a notable 
discretion, and seized the most obnoxious, whom he forth- 
with imprisoned in a lower chamber of the House, which 
the mob somewhat profanely denominated hell, as they 
beheld it filling with the proscribed. Pride did comport 
himself with zeal 5 and had it not been December, would 
doubtless have suffered from the heartiness of his endea- 
vours. 'Twas rare warm work for a winter day. Upwards 
of forty were imprisoned, which might be told even by a 
blind man ; for as each one fell into the hands of Pride, 
a shout, half mirthful, half in scorn, broke from the en- 
livened crowd, which called on the busied colonel to purge 
the House full well, since he had leaden pills enough. 

Ob ad. What became of all the others ? for the House 
was strong in Presbyterians. 

Joyce. They were persuaded, in the colonel's most 
convincing manner, to retire 5 so that the fullest number 



CROMWELL. 77 

of the elect, which had alone obtained permission to enter 
into the tabernacle, was perchance at most one hundred 
and a half. 

Obab. Of a verity, this is strange. Who dared order 
this? 

Joyce. Who ? Hast thou not served in the godly 
army sufficient time to know what Cromwell wills he 
dares, and that which he doth dare none dare gainsay ? 

Ob ad. I should remember truly that he is bold in 
action, for he did shoot our chaplain Grace-begotten 
before we could say nay. 

Joyce. And if thou hadst said nay, thou wouldest have 
followed. Wilt thou see the sequel of this performance ? 

Ob ad. Yea, verily, I will attend thee ; for it refreshetli 
my spirit to behold the discomfiture of the wicked. 

[Exeunt. 

Enter Cromwell, Ireton, and Lockier, all disguised. 

Crom. Lockier, 'tis here we should await him. 

Lock. Even so ; at the hour of twelve. 

Crom. 'Tis near it. [Clock strikes. 

Ire. Hearken, it striketh even as we speak. 

Crom. [sits doivn and takes up the newspaper"] What 
have we here? Mercurius Melancholicus.( 6 ) Pish! the 
preacher of sedition, the foul-mouthed Cavalier, who 
quickens the infirmities of kings by fulsome panegyric, 
and doth incite the aggravated nation by its contemptuous 
tone. Listen, good Ireton, to most mercurial logic, though 
somewhat melancholy from its lame conclusion. [Reads'] 
cc Each man at his sword's point doth beare a crown ; 
Why may not yet the rebells tumble down ?"(") 
If each man doth indeed bear a crown, we have even more 
crowns to withstand than we had bargained for, friend 
Ireton. Lockier, some old canary, quick ; we are upon 
a dry undertaking; ay [laughing], and 'tis even a trai- 
torous one. Stop a king's correspondence ! fie, fie ! the 
Parliament must punish this offence. — 



78 



CROMWELL. 



Enter Sipkin with wine. 



Harkee, mine host, is it of custom that thou keepest in 
thy house this unseemly journal ? 

Sip. Sir, I must needs keep of all sorts for all sorts of 
people. 

Crom. Wherefore ? Thy liquor doth doubtless excite 
men's passions, and thou shouldest have a fitting monitor 
to calm them. 

Sip. *Tis u right manly journal, good sir; it speaks 
out boldly. 

Crom. Indeed doth it; to wit, the following cha- 
racters of true servants of the state :( 8 ) [reads'] " The 
Parliament's head-pander, the Earl of Pembroke ; that 
crumpling of nobility, the Earl of Mulgrave ; that golden 
ass, Lord Grey of Wark ; that grinning dwarf, Lord Grey 
of Groby ; Cromwell, the town-bull of Ely" — [throws 
down the paper] Callest thou that a seemly journal? 

Sip. [smiling'] What better would you have me keep ? 

Crom. There is one more righteously disposed : "The 
Packet of Letters from Scotland and the northern parts," 
and "The Moderate Intelligencer;" less pernicious works 
to lie on tables where strong wine abounds. 

Sip. Gentlemen, d^ye serve the Parliament ? 

Crom. [aside] Unto our convenience. — [Aloud] Where- 
fore, good host ? 

Sip. An' ye do, I'll make so bold as claim payment 
before my sweet canary sings ; for look ye, gentlemen, 
there be better paymasters in the world than your Parlia- 
ment men. 

[Cromwell and Ireton look at each other and 
smile. 

Lock. Tut, man, here's the money; hold thy prating 
tongue. If thou bring'st me in ... . remember. 

[Exit Sipkin. 

Crom. Lockier, art thou sure the Dover carrier will 
be here ? 



CROMWELL. 79 

Lock. Ay, quite sure, good my general ; he never 
misses, when out of the kennel ; and to-day he would fain 
be sober for the great mission he hath undertaken ; I 
mean the great amount of porterage he hath for the 
saddle., for he knoweth not of the letter in it. [Carrier 
sings without.] But here the varlet conies. 

Enter Dover Carrier, singing. 

Car. And now for some ale. When trade flourishes, 
how sweet ale tastes ! To be sure, one can't tell how it 
tastes when it don't flourish. Well, since Old Noll has 
scoured y*r royalty dishes, Fve enough to do with the 
fragments. Gentlemen, good day to ye, though ye be 
Roundheads. 

Ire. [rising] And wherefore, iC though ye be Round- 
heads }" like ye them not ? 

Car. Nay, if you would get mine honest thought, 
'twere full as well to speak me fair, and not look so 
black. 

Ire. Dost not like us then ? 

[Leaning on Carrier s shoulder. 

Car. Imprimis, I like not familiarity; it breeds con- 
tempt : wherefore lift off your arm, unless [looks jestingly 
at him] you'll pay me for it — carrier fashion. 

Ire. Well, my merry master, what of Roundheads 
now? 

Crom. Ay, what of Roundheads ? what of Fairfax ? 

Car. Fairfax ! he's very well, an 5 the devil would let 
him. 

Crom. And of Cromwell — what? 

Car. Cromwell ! he's the devil that won't let him ! 

Ire. [aside] Thou hast it, Noll ! 

Crom. [smiling] And, pray thee, what of Ireton ? 

Car. Oh, he's as stiff as a bad rapier, and as savage 
as a raven. 

Crom. [aside to Ireton] How likest thou the por- 
trait ? 



80 CROMWELL. 

Ire. 'Tis not flattering, truly. 

Crom. But to the task. — [Aside to Lockier] Lockier, 
whilst we detain the garrulous old fool, go thou and seek 
the saddle. [Exit Lockier.] — Wilt some canary to the 
Roundheads, man? [Gives flagon to Carrier. 

Car. [taking it~\ Ay, that will I. Here's confusion 
to them ! 

Crom. [catches his arm just as he is about to drink~] 
Nay, not so fast. 

Car. There's truth in liquor, they say; but you get 
my truth before I get your liquor; ergo is it not of a 
parity ? Nay, let me drink, and I will say thy pleasure. 

[Drinks. 

Re-enter Lockier with saddle, which he throws down. 

Why, 'tis even the saddle I have received for Dover. 

Lock. Ay, is it, and it may chance to saddle thee 
more than thou likest. Begone ! 

Car. Nay, but 

[Lockier whispers him, and points to Cromwell; 
Carrier lifts up his hands, and departs with fear. 
Lock, [ripping up the saddled Behold how royal 
saddles are stuff 'd ! 

[Holds up letter, which Cromwell seizes. 
Crom. Now, my fair-spoken king. [Reads to Ireton. 

" To her Majesty the Queen of England, at the French 

Court" 
A right royal superscription. ( 9 ) 

" To my truly beloved and loyal wife, greeting : 
(( Amidst the divers calamities of the time, it is doubly 
necessary to be circumspect in act and word ; wherefore 
I do pray thee send all thy future letters in cipher, 
even as I will mine. I do approve thy noble efforts 
with the cardinal and queen, and will thankfully owe my 
freedom to the efforts of my beloved Henriette. May 
Heaven bless the arms thou dost wield in my defence ! 



CROMWELL. 81 

I am alike on my guard with Cromwell and the Parlia- 
ment ; yet have I now most hopes from the latter. 
Cromwell and Ireton I shall blind by promises of ad- 
vancement; and when I have raised them, I can easily 
let them fall : I must outgeneral them. With right loving 
remembrance to the Queen of France, and best wishes to 
the Cardinal, Your loving and loyal 

" Charles/' 
Treachery, thy name is king ! 

Ire. Is^t his hand, 

Good general ? 

Crom. Ay, full well I know his hand; 
A middling, rounded, rigid hand ; this g 
Unfinished, and the even lines, all tend 
To grave his treason on my sight. Ireton, 
We have escap'd the snare. Earl of Essex, 
Indeed ! No king-made title shall disgrace 
The fame which kingly craft cannot efface. 
Charles, thou hast played a double game, and needs 
Must doubly stake upon such subtle deeds. [Exeunt. 



SCENE IV. 

An Apartment in Lord Fairfax's Mansion. 

Enter Lady Fairfax, Constance in female attire, and 
Sir Philip Warwick. 

Lady F. My dearest Constance, all, all now is joy 
Thou art return'd. Thanks, good Sir Philip, thanks. 

Sir Ph. Nay, lady, 'tis to Constance we owe thanks, 
For teaching us that domineering man 
Is full well matched in courage and in skill 
By you fair creatures. Constance — Julius still — 
Thou hast supplied affection's place to me ; 
I cannot part with thee. [Takes her hand affectionately. 

G 



82 CROMWELL. 

Const, [to Sir Philip] . Deep gratitude 
As yet unspoken most should be avow'd ; 
Thy gen'rous aid not envious fate annuls, 
Which bids my queen suppress a mother's heart, 
And in the place of love make patience grow. — 
Dear aunt, I cannot speak thee of thy care 
Of my heart's secret, which, hadst thou but kept, 
Would have increas'd my debtorship of thanks ; 
But thus to crown its maiden-blushing hope, 
Is bankruptcy to gratitude. Dear aunt 

Lady F. My dearest niece, my letter should have 
reach' d 
Edward this day, who, on the wings of love, 
Will doubtless come to claim the king's sweet page. 

[Playfully. 

Const. Nay, aunt, 'tis past. 

Lady F. Our former scruples too, 

With all the hopes we nourish'd once ; thy tongue 
Shall teach my heart once more its loyalty. 
O Constance, we have liv'd in fearful times ! 

Enter Edward. 
Edw. [to Lady Fairfax] Madam, is't true 



Lady F. True as thy heart, young man : 

And canst thou, midst the moaning of the storm, 
Which even now is bursting o'er our heads, 
Subdue all painful thoughts to those of peace ? 
[Shewing Constance] Here is thy monitress, to check 

thy tongue, 
Recurring unto dangers past. 

Edw. [taking Constance's hand] Dear love, 
Here let me breathe a long-suppress'd delight, 
And all my sum of love 

Sir Ph. All ? half's bestow'd 

Elsewhere. 

Edw. [sharply] Sir Philip ! 



CROMWELL. 83 

Sir Ph. Is poor Julius thus 

Shipwreck'd within his sister's whirlpool claim ? 

Edw. Not so ', I love the youth 

Const. As thou lov'st me ? 

Edw. Nay. 

Const. Say yes, dear Edward, and I'll freely own 
No brother, and claim all thy love myself. 

[Edward surprised. 

Lady F. More shalt thou know at leisure ; let us in, 
And, good Sir Philip, thou shalt pledge the king. 

[Exeunt, Sir Philip leading Lady Fairfax. 



SCENE V. 

Another Apartment in Lord Fairfax's Mansion. 
Cromwell and Fairfax seated. 

Fair. Cromwell, Pm heart-sick at these desp'rate 
scenes, 
Which sear my pity's sight. I cannot turn, 
But some distorted incident uplifts 
Its hated front, and forcibly contrasts 
The hideous present with the smiling past : 
The ills we suffer'd from the iron rule 
Of Charles have dwindled into specks, 
And are obscur'd by the deep gloom which spreads 
O'er all our prospects. 

Crom. The tone of our minds 
Doth colour ev'ry object, and our lives 
Are but chameleons of our fancy ; 
The firm-cemented brain doth temper all 
Unto an even ordinance. Thy cause 

Fair, [interrupting him~\ I have espous'd my cause 
in fear of Heav'n, 
In solemn consultation with my God ; 



84 CROMWELL. 

Not hastily have I forsworn the creed 

Mine ancestors did boast. I am embark'd 

Upon th' eternal voyage of my soul, 

With due regard for life and death ; yet feel 

That I do loathe the sad excess of deed 

Which brands our cause. Sufficient warrant ne'er 

Invites this violence. 

Crom. Excellent lord, 

Sufficient warrant wilt thou find indeed. 
Dost dream ? or has the subtle fiend employed 
His skill upon thee ? Not sufficient cause ! 
When the wild whirlwind rides the howling air, 
Is there not cause for fear ? When lightning darts 
Its lurid forks athwart the blacken'd sky. 
And wheels its scythe electric all around, 
Is there not cause for fear ? When pestilence 
Breathes forth its venom, and the black'ning sore 
Deals inch by inch a long-suspended death, 
Is there no cause for fear ? When on the sea 
The boiling billows cleave the moaning wind, 
And the unstable vessel starts her seams, 
And rapid dissolution doth advance 
With briny arms outstretched to grasp his prey, 
Is there no cause, my lord, for fear ? 

Fair. There is : 

But wherefore thus these cunning pictures frame ? 
What parallels have we ? 

Crom. Dangers as great 

To the immortal soul of man. Justice 
Doth weep at what herself ordains to clear 
Her broad majestic path ; yet weeps, good lord, 
At the necessity which claims her sword, 
And not at the performance of the deed. 
Has England borne no wrongs from Stuart's line ? 
From this Charles Stuart none ? The Royal Loan, 
The Knighthood-money, and the Forest-law, 



CROMWELL. 85 

Star-chamber, High Commission, Court of Wards, — 

Are all these benefits, good lord ? If so, 

Then is Ship-money but a blessed tax ; 

And suits long standing in corrupted courts, 

And Parliaments dissolv'd at will and e'en 

Illegally suppress 'd, but favours done 

Unto the nation ; the Scottish war, 

Pursued because they did refuse to pray 

According to a new-made service-book, 

Was but a benefit ; the guard which aw'd 

The Parliament, was then a kingly joke ; 

The policy of yielding the princess 

To the Dutch prince, a boon to English hopes ; 

The Queen's opposing efforts to supply 

The royal camp with means to crush the state, 

A mere mistake ; and Rupert's deadly zeal, 

A tortuous mode of speaking his good will ; 

And Charles's sly abandonment of home, 

Merely a merry trick of hide and seek. 

Your Excellency, sure, has ponder' d oft 

On these allowed evils ? 

Fair. Oft, full oft ; 

With strained brain and apprehension keen 
Full oft survey'd the thickening mass of ill 
Which inert royalty had slumber' d o'er. 
Free am I to confess that, horror-struck, 
I sumni'd the gaping wounds inflicted thus 
With harrowing presentiment ; yet now 
Shudder at the result. Cromwell, farewell ; 
I'd speak with thee anon on this sad theme. 
O, stem this torrent ere it whelm us all ! [Exit- 

Crom. Let it whelm all, faint-hearted lord ; thy fears 
Would sink thee. I but fear the envious wave 
Which drags me from the golden shore of pow'r. 
'Tis man's condition to be thrall'd with doubt 
Where most he hopes : where lies such clear success, 



86 CROMWELL. 

In fortune's chart mapped out, as baffles chance, 

Some untongu'd tremor swells the hope-charg'd hearty 

And taints with its small venom huge conceits 

Of settled joys and lifetime interests. 

The king in Windsor( 10 ) holds his mournful state, 

Still trick' d by hope, whose feeble glimmering soon 

Shall sink before the blasts of England's hate. [Exit. 



SCENE VI. 

Interior of Westminster Hall. A Crowd of Persons walking 
about conversing. 

Edward, Sir Philip Warwick, Herbert, Fleet- 
wood, Lockier, Obadiah, Ephraim, Hezekiah, 
Pride, Joyce, &c. Sipkin bustling in, 

Ob ad. Well, neighbour Sipkin, what news ? 

Sip. Bad enough ; the king is to be tried. 

Ob ad. Callest thou that bad news ? 

Sip. Marry do I ; as bad as sentence without benefit of 
clergy, seeing it will be judgment without benefit of judges. 

Ob ad. Albeit thou savourest not entire godliness, I 
do feel prompted to say, let the malign ants be smitten, 
yea, unto their dwelling-places, even as Joshua smote 
Hazor, and burned it with fire. 

Sip. I turns away] Pish, man, you are a fool ! 

Ob ad. Yea, even as he smote the malignants from the 
mount Halak that goeth up to Seir, unto Baal-gad in the 
valley of Lebanon, under mount Hermon. 

Joyce [to Pride]. Hast heard how master Prynn 
has been arrested and conveyed to prison for his " Brief 
Memento ?" 

Pride. Ay, he holds out bravely against the House. 

Lock, [joining them] Say rather, rashly. Where's the 
wisdom of the thing ? A mad world it is, I warrant ye, 



CROMWELL. 87 

my masters, when truth dare hardly shew her ears within 
sight of a pillory. 

Joyce. Why, this same master Prynn hath with his 
pen done good service to the Parliament, yet now he doth 
beard it. 

Pride. Indeed he doth. Why, 'tis reported that he 
refused their summons, and said, that except he were 
asked by a lawful authority, he would not answer. 

Sip. Nobly said. 

Ob ad. In good faith, no ; it is not lawful to deny the 
authority of the House. 

Sip. Wherefore ? Did not the House deny the king^s 
authority ? 

Ob ad. Ay, and with reason. 

Sip. With treason rather, my saint. An' ye hope to 
rule the roast, you had better hire NolFs fiery nose — the 
devil's substitute on earth. 

Hezek. Verily, it is a beacon held forth to the elect. 

Sip. ^Tis the flaming torch of discord rather, as pro- 
perly saith the last Mercurius Pragmaticus ; or the fiery 
comet of rebellion predicted by his own lying almanac- 
prophet, Will Lilly. 

Eph. Nay, it is a fixed star 

Sip. In the middle of that cloudy sky, his ugly face. 
Ffaith, no wonder it's red ; for it's so often tweaked by 
his patron, the devil. 

Ob ad. Profane one ! it is a glorious privilege to be 
distinguished amongst men. 

Sip. Say you so ? then your saints have it hollow ; for 
there's no confounding them with proper men. 

[The Puritans and Sipkin retire disputing to the 
back of the stage. Sir Philip Warwick and 
Edward come forward. 

Lock, [suspiciously following'] 'Tis my young Cava- 
lier, sure enough. Nay, there are too many to deal with 
him here. I'll track him home ; he shall not 'scape his 
reckoning. [Retires, 






88 



CROMWELL. 



Obad. [to Ephraim] Mark ye, master Lockier, we 
will wait the occasion to smite him. [Retire. 

Sir Ph. Who could have dream'd of this extremity? 

Edw. Who but these demons, who dream nought but 
evil ? 

Sir Ph. What Faux smothered in a dark lantern 
these attempt at noonday, and openly act that in a hall 
which he but closely hatched in a cellar. ( n ) 

Enter a Roundhead. 

Ro. O my masters, such a goodly sight ! 

Herb. Whatis't? 

Ro. The proclamation of the Stuart's trial. 

Herb. Take that for thy news, officious crop-ear. 

[Cuffs him. 

Ro. \draws sword'] I will even unto death assault 
thee, malignant. 

Herb, [draws; they cross swords ; another Roundhead 
draws, then a Cavalier] Fair play, my ravens, my 

Edw. [rushes forward] What ho, my piquet crowns ! 
what ho, Cavaliers ! to the punto ! No sly blows, my 
cunning ones. 

[Sipkin and Sir Philip Warwick draw. 

Sip. I'm for ye ; what ho ! up with the royals. 

Fleet, [draws, and darts before them, heating down 
their swords. — To Edward] Sir, though a foe, thou 
seem'st of gentle birth, and fit to understand a calm re- 
quest. Thou wilt conceive the cause of order is of no 

[Trumpet sounds. 

Enter the Procession.^ 2 ) Sergeant Dendy on horseback, 
with the mace on his shoulder, followed by six trumpeters 
on horseback, with guards on each side. Officers of the 
House and army, bareheaded. Drums beat; trumpets 
sound. , 

Serg. Dendy. [reads proclamation] " By virtue of an 
Act of the Commons of England, assembled in Parlia- 



CROMWELL. 89 

ment for erecting of an High Court of Justice for the 
trying and judging of Charles Stuart, king of England, 

" We, whose names are hereunder written, being Com- 
missioners (amongst others) nominated in the same Act, do 
hereby appoint that the High Court of Justice mentioned 
in the said Act shall be holden in the Painted Chamber in 
the Palace of Westminster, on Wednesday the tenth day 
of this instant January, by one of the clock of the after- 
noon ; and this we appoint to be notified by public 
proclaiming hereof in the Great Hall at Westminster 
to-morrow, being the 9th day of this instant January, 
betwixt the hours of nine and eleven in the forenoon. 
In testimony whereof, we have hereunto set our hands 
and seals, the 8th day of January, Anno Dom. 1648."( 13 ) 
[Flourish of trumpets. Cheers from the Round- 
heads. Cries of" Trial!" " Execution!" The 
Cavaliers groan, crying u Shame !" Quarrelling, 
fighting. Curtain falls. 



END OF THE FOURTH ACT. 



90 CROMWELL. 



ACT V. SCENE I. 

Exterior of Westminster Hall. Persons waiting about the 

door. 

Two respectable Citizens advance. 

1st Cit. Saw you the king to-day ? 

2d Cit. I did, by favour of an officer of the court 
who but lately served me. 

1st Cit. Did he look abashed, poor soul ? 

2d Cit. Not a whit. His hair is greyer than it was 
wont to be, and there was a settled knot on his thoughtful 
brows ; but in my life I never saw such a kingly mien, 
albeit with so little kingly state. 

1st Cit. Will he be tried again ? 

2d Cit. No ; he has all along denied the power of the 
House. He said he saw no lords there, and would not 
recognise the Commons as a judicial tribunal. He re- 
peatedly interrupted the President, and wore his hat in 
the face of them as proudly as it had been a crown. 
I'faith, they were strange judges. They appeared rather 
like the mechanics who made the tables they sat about. 

1st Cit. How many were there, think you, of these 
bold king-arraigners ? 

2d Cit. Not more than three score and a half, as I 
should guess by the look of the benches. The Chancery 
and King's-bench were thrown into one for the occasion. 

1st Cit. Doubtless the king hath done some great 
wrong ; this pass else is too violent. 

2d Cit. An" ye whip wrong-doers, shall his judges 
'scape ? The king hath a right noble heart ; he hath in- 
deed occasionally distorted prerogative. 

1st Cit. This is a stern way of teaching him the first 
lesson of popular power. 

2d Cit. It is, my master; but when religious rebellion 



CROMWELL. 91 

and loyal license meet in extremity, they are like unto fire 
and water — one puts the other out, or lefs itself be con- 
sumed. For my part, I do believe there be many rights 
and many wrongs in the conscience, an 5 you could preach 
moderation. [Cries outside.~] Here come the dirty ends 
of one extreme ; the words of religion which fill their 
mouths have choked up the passage of mercy from their 
hearts. {They retire to the back of the stage. 

Enter Mob, crying and shouting. 

The Crier, {reads'] ec For all which treasons and 
crimes, the Court adjudges that the said Charles Stuart, 
as a tirant, traytor, murtherer, and publique enemy, shall 
be put to death by severing of his head from his body." 

Mob. Execution! execution! perish the Stuart ! perish 
all malignants ! They are upright judges. Execution upon 
the tyrant, the traitor, the murderer ! Execution ! 

[The President Bradshaw, Cook, Steele, Do- 
rislaus, Aske, and others, cross the stage from 
the Hall. The Mob cheers andfolloivs. 

2d Cit. Ffaith, a popular tribunal is like a working 
cask with the bung left out — the froth alone is vented. 

1st Cit. The froth of this cask will, I fear me, turn 
to blood. These public criers have throats like open 
sepulchres gaping for a murdered king. [Exeunt. 

SCENE II. 

An Apartment in Fairfax's Mansion. 

Enter Lady Fairfax and Constance, weeping. 

Lady F. I am not yet myself; my heaving heart, 
Long bound a captive by a prudent will, 
Is now a rebel turned to suit the times ; 
All calmness hath forsworn this troubled breast. 
O *tis a sin, a heinous sin ! 



92 CROMWELL. 

Const. Dear aunt, 

I feel as though my soul were doubly sick 
Of union with this unnatural form, 
For living on amidst calamity 
So vast. 

Lady F. Great God of heav'n, can this be true ? 
Can I have really heard aright? That court, ( l ) 
That mockery of courts ! And did this voice 
Exclaim indeed " that 'twas a hated shame ?" 
Do I now dream ? or does the worser truth N 

Give present thoughts more fearful than a dream ? 

Enter Lord Fairfax, reading a letter. 

Fair. Be moderate, indeed ! 'tis gently said ; 

Be moderate, forsooth ! when the keen hounds 

Are upon the scent of blood. 

Lady F. My good lord 

Fair. Well, dearest wife ; sweet Constance ; sister 
griefs. [Shakes hands mournfully. 

If we can speak for tears, let's speak our hate 

Of our past lives, which sure .... Could Fate have shewn 

This bloody picture to my ardent sight, 

I had forsworn niy conscience — deem'd it false 

In its direction — deemed the truth itself, 

Then present to my mind, a fiend's device 

To lure me to perdition. Heav'n, thy will 

Is surely lost amidst this dire distress. 

Could I have seen that murder — ha ! who's there ? 

Enter a Servant, 

I now think all men instruments of ill. 

Serv. General Cromwell, my lord. [Exit. 

Lady F. We must not see him, good my lord. 

Fair. See him ! 

I had rather — but quick, he comes. Hence. [Exeunt. 



CROMWELL. 93 



Enter Cromwell. 



Crom. [gazing at them as they retire'] *Tis courteous., 
truly. In these busy times 
Firm minds alone can proper forms preserve ; 
All others, trembling at the danger, lose 
The necessary circumspection. 
Without this lord the Stuart is condemned ; 
'Tis true he sent a delegate — his wife, 
Whose tongue did cause far more effect in court 
Than would her husband's. Cromwell is not wont 
To be dismissed thus. But that he needs 
Thy name, weak lord, he had perchance been sore. 
He finds thee false ; thou shalt be so no more. [Exit, 



SCENE III. 

A By-street, 
Edward with two swords, Lockier disarmed, 

Edw. Lockier, I could have ta'en your life, when now 
Your coward sword was pointed 'gainst my own. 
Your villany is known to all 

Lock, [significantly] But one. 

Edw. And Cromwell seems, all other men besides 
Yielding unto his craft and hardihood, 
To be thy blinded tool ; thou canst enjoin 
With him what from all other men he'd doubt : 
Thou art a bold, bad man. 

Lock, [sarcastically] Is that fresh news 
From court ? methinks they lack some better now. 

Edw. But that I stand in need, although asham'd 
To thus employ thy cunning dev'lish skill 
To work out honest plans, thou should'st not sneer 
At aught I do affect. 



94 



CROMWELL. 



Lock. Well, sir, I own 

I'm somewhat in your pow'r ; but gold alone 
Can bind my service : will you deal with me 
More profitably than has Cromwell done ? 
Whose duties I am tir'd of — profitless 
And void of credit. 

Edw. That will I ; but hence 

Unto a fitter place to settle terms. 

Lock. The place is fit enough, if terms prove so. 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE IV. 

An Apartment in St. James's Palace. ( 2 ) 
Enter Charles and Sir Philip Warwick. 

Ch. Say, good Sir Philip, unto those who wait — 
The Palatine and Duke of Richmond — thus : 
That ev'ry earthly purpose must be cast 
In the deep well of truth, where lie my hopes, 
Lest some infirmity assail my soul. [Exit Sir Philip. 
Of what avail the justice of my cause 
In such a court ? Its pow'r I still deny ; 
Its competence is self-create ; the lords 
Are wanting. Were they not, they could not raise 
A judgment-seat ^fore which to drag their king, 
Who has no peers, and unto Heav'n alone 
Can be responsible for aught of wrong, 
Perform'd against his heart. They are resolved 
To seal my fate ; yet dare I not retract 
My deeply injur'd honour's scornful plea 
Of their injurious assumption. 
I dare not yield a precedent which time 
May urge against all kingly state, and hurl 
Against authority. I stand secure 
Upon a principle, but fall by deeds. 



CROMWELL. 95 

Thus, then, the checker 5 d scene shuts in around, 
And stricken greatness mourns me sad adieu. 

Re-enter Sir Philip. 

Warwick, my faithful Warwick, soon shall all 
Thy well-performed duties be absolved, 
And thy poor master lie more lowly still. 

Sir Ph. O sire, let fairer thoughts attend you now ! 

Ch. Why fairer, good Sir Philip, when the deeds, 
Illegal deeds, which sear me thus, are dark ? 
When treason starts into the frighted world, 
And, plucking the ripe majesty of kings, 
Chokes up the fountain of the sacred law, 
And teaches midnight villany to plot 
Against the peace of nations ? What have I 
To do with smiling thoughts ; 'twere fitter far 
I turned mine inward eyes upon my soul, 
To gaze upon the deep polluted spot 
Which did attract the lightning of His wrath 
Who is the only King. 

Sir Ph. Tis fitly said. 

Ch. The sacred name of king on earth imports 
The sum and substance of a nation's weal ; 
It is a people crowned in one man, 
The symbol of its wide prosperity : 
Pluck from the monarches brow the regal crown, 
You thus uncrown the people, ruin the state, 
And violate the majesty of law. 
Each thought and act of kings, yea, ev'ry look, 
Must bear some reference to their lofty state, 
And to th' examples they are bound to set, 
As the chief models of the time. 

Sir Ph. Ah, sire, 

A noble model have you always prov'd ; 
But that your fate has cast you in an age 
When ev^ry man his own exemplar is, 



96 CROMWELL. 

And spurns authority, as though high Heav'n 

Had stamp'd all order, all obedience, 

As guilt. Ah, sire, your epitaph, 

Trac'd by the gracious hand of loyal truth, 

Will live, fresh graven in the future heart 

Of England, when rebellion's name is lost 

In the dire chasm of this bloody time. 

Enter Herbert. 

Herb, [faltering] Sire, a message from the House. 

Ch. [mournfully] Death alone 

Can now keep compact with my ear ; all else 
Is perjury. I go to learn its voice. [Exeunt. 



SCENE V. 

An Apartment in Whitehall, 
Cromwell, Ireton, and Fleetwood, sitting. 

Ire. On Tomlinson and Hacker, then, the task 
Of guarding him devolves ? 

Fleet. They both are men 

Unus'd to question a superior will. 

Crom. My son, the strongest props of pow'r are such 
As read their interest in obedience blind. 

Ire. What chaplain shall he have ? 

Crom. Whoe'er he will. 

All his desires, now circumscrib'd by death, 
Shall be attended to ; and in his state 
Let no one circumstance occur to wound 
His sharpen'd feelings. 

Fleet. Cromwell, 'tis abroad 

That Fairfax doth excite the people's ire 
Against the sentence, and that 'mongst the troops 
He sows sedition. 



CROMWELL. y/ 

Ire. Let him sow the seeds 
Of his own fall. A trembling, meddling fool ! 
But to the matter charg'd me by the House : 
To-day they pass'd the act for changing all 
The forms and patents, processes and grants, 
In style and title, razing the kingly 

Crom. Ireton, we heed not forms ; let them abide 
Till the necessity for all this change 
Shall have been carried through ; until the name 
Have perish'd with the thing. The House did stoop 
From its high office, ere the trial began, 
To petty thoughts of form ; toil'd to decide 
Whether both mace and sword should grace the scene 
Of stern substantial justice : it still clings 
To empty, changing types. . . . Ireton, I trust 
That in the future godliness abounds ; 
That England's drooping head will be uprais'd, 
And universal happiness reward 
The patience which has borne the varied scenes 
Of this sad tale. ... I trust that good will come ; . . . . 
I feel it will ; or else it were not worth 
This torturing of mind in search of truth. 
Leave me awhile ; the ev'ning now shuts in, 
And meditation will refresh my soul. . . . 
Good Ireton, be astir by dawn. The sun 
Which lights that dawn will shine as bright 
As though this deed of death were not to be ; 
All the dark spots, so fearful to our sight, 
Dim not one spark of heav'n's unchanging light. — 

[Exeunt Ireton and Fleetwood. 
I feel a strange misgiving : ^tis not fear, 
The which I feel I know not in my view 
Of worldly circumstance. Yet e'en that head 

[Sees the portrait of Charles by Vandyk. 
Disturbs the tenour of my deep'ning thoughts. 

H 



98 CROMWELL. 

[Rises, and pulls a curtain before the portrait of 
Charles. 
These Stuarts surely are a doomed race ; 
Not one has liv'd and died in peace, from first 
To last. Was not king Robert's son, Rothsay, 
Compell'd by Albany, his father's brother, 
To eat his shrunken flesh in loathsome cell ? 
And did not Robert's heart of mis'ry crack ? 
Then the first James, most barbarously slain 
By Graham ; the second, Douglas' murd'rer, 
Slain by his own cannon ; and his son James, 
His brother's murderer, kill'd by unknown hand. 
At Flodden the fourth Stuart fell ; how strange 
The fate of his unburied corse, which lay 
For years a plaything in a lumber-room ! 
The fifth, imprisoned by bold Angus, forc'd 
To fly, until his broken heart did match the fate 
Of Stuart's house. Mary the Papist next, 
Whose triple marriage was replete with sin : 
'Twas she first pointed to the royal block 
On which her grandson's head is to be laid. 
This Charles's father died not fair in bed, 
But was with subtle possets carried ofi\( 3 ) 
Is not this fate ? 

Enter Fleetwood. 

Fleet. Sir, Harrison doth wait 

To learn thy will about to-morrow's guard. 

Crom. I thought 'twas all arrang'd. Tell Harrison 
That he and Skippon mind the palace-courts, 
With Desborough to tend the neighbouring streets, 
Whilst thou, good Fleetwood — nay, thou'dst better not 
Be seen abroad — within the palace-gates 
Thou'lt be at hand, with Ireton and myself. 
The troops around the scaffold must be horse. 



CROMWELL. 99 

Let me not be disturbed. I shall not sleep, 
But fain would be alone. Good night, my son. 

[Exit Fleetwood. 
[Meditates ; looks upon a paper - ] How strangely true are 

Lilly^s( 4 ) starry signs ! 
My horoscope as plainly tells my life 
As though the future were the certain past ; 
And not an act of bygone days but finds 
A voice in yonder stars. [Looks at his horoscope] Here 

Jupiter 
Great future pow^r displays. My house of good, 
Or rather fortune, is by directions 
Favourable ; yet can I not discern 
Beyond my sixtieth year the certain track. 
This Lilly doth pretend to see in store 
The restitution of the royal line : 
Not while I live, be Lilly rogue or fool ! 
I will believe all friendly aspects true, 
And deem opposing ones mere accidents — 
Miscalculations of the cunning sage. 
As yet he hath in his predictions proved 
Time's herald, mapping out his varied course. 
If that events be register' d by Fate, 
Whence man's blind struggles to obtain that boon 
Which needs must come ? True, we must act ; and, thus 
Acting, do carry out the schemes of Fate 
With seeming choice of action. When the deed 
Tallies with the intent, we claim the prize, 
As though we urg'd it by our choice of act. — 
Who's there ? \_A knocking without. 

Enter Mrs. Cleypole. 

Who dare intrude upon me thus ? 
Mrs. C. Who dare, indeed, when evil broods alone ? 
Father, thou taught' st this tongue to lisp thy name, 
To link it with my heart. Alas, the hour 



100 CROMWELL. 

When first the fatal accents pass'd these lips ! 
Could I have then believ'd thee steeped in crime, 
As now I dread to see thee ? - — I, thy child ! 

[Kneels at his feet. 
O sir, despair and misery alone 
Await thy rash impetuous career ! 
Ah, could my tears, my burning shame, appeal 
Unto thy rugged heart. 

Crom. Forbear, weak girl ! 

[More gently] My child, why yield to such a chiding 

mood ? 
Could'st see my heart 

Mrs. C. Smile then, my father, smile. 
Say, father, the unhappy king shall live. 

Crom. He cannot, must not ; he must pay the debt 
Apportion'd unto each by wise decree, 
In different ways adjudged. His crimes are great; 
Crimes which thou canst not understand, weak girl. 

Mrs. C. Pardon me, sir; I may be weak 

Crom. Too weak. 

Nor add the greatest weakness yet of all 
That mark thy sex, a prying into that 
Which ill befits thy pow'rs. 

Mrs. C. Nought ill befits 

Which virtue stirs us to. The king is weak, 
But that is nature's fault, not his. 

Crom. Not his ! 

Well then, he pays but nature's debt — no more. 
Do we not all in different degrees ? 
What is disease but nature^ debt ? What pain, 
And all the lingering account of ill 
Which circumvents us in our debtor state ? 
What all the toils of war, the blood-stain'd field, 
The ghastly corse, but nature's common debt 
Proportioned to the means of payment ? 
There are ends too in nature's wondrous maze, 



CROMWELL. 101 

And chosen instruments to bring them forth. 
The quicken'd eye of man can see all this ; 
Thine, my poor girl, is film'd with woman's fears : 
Scruples may suit the distaff, not the sword. 

Mrs. C. But mercy, father, tempers e'en the sword. 
Crom. Justice alone can wield the sword in truth ; 
Justice is mercy full enough for man. 
I have not wrought his death ; his stubborn will; 
Arm'd with the feeble prescripts of a right 
Worn threadbare by an unrestrained use., 
Hath bow'd his stern prerogative to might 
Rais'd on his faults — wrung from a nation's wrongs. 
I would have sav'd, but safety's plea incurred 
Renewed oppression of the people's cause, 
And on my soul was bas'd their suff'ring claim. 

[At this moment the portrait of Charles falls ; 
Cromwell starts up. 
There's not a symbol of this race but bodes 
Misfortune ; ev'ry sign that can predict 
Approaching evil multiplies itself, 
To fix the banishment of lingering hope. 

Mrs. C. Father, I pray thee yield not weakly thus 
To fancies overwrought ; to one idea 
So firmly and monotonously fix'd 
In thine imagination, that all 
The daily trifles of the world are warp'd 
Into accordance with the ruling thought. 

Crom. Blaspheme not 'gainst the signs of heav'n. 
Mrs. C. Blaspheme ! 

I dare not do it, sir. Ah, would that thou 
As little durst pursue thy dark conceits, 
Which do indeed blaspheme against that Pow'r 
Which shews us mercy, and commands the like 
From each to all. 

Crom. I'll hear no more ; thou would'st 

Uproot eternal truth. 



102 



CROMWELL. 



Mrs. C. Eternal guilt ! [Drops on her knees. 

O ponder on the awful deed ! this night 
Alone doth lie ^twixt thee and sin. 

Crom. [furiously] Away ! 

Thou'rt not my child — thou art some fiend, thus sent 
To pluck the righteous longings of my soul. 
Rise ; I'll no more. 

Mrs. C. Father ! 

Crom. Rise ; rise, I say. 

Mrs. C. Nay, let me snatch thee 

Crom. Madness ! 

Mrs. C. Mercy, sir ! 

Crom. Mercy ! grant me then mercy ; or my brain, 
Whirled into madness. . . .Up, up ! quick, away ! 

Mrs. C. Never, by all the majesty of Heav'n ! 

Crom. By all the fiends of hell, my brain's on fire ! 
Away, away ! 

[He forcibly thrusts her from him, and rushes out. 

Mrs. C. Father, thou kilFst me ! — Oh ! 

[She falls senseless. 

SCENE VI. 

Court-yard of St. James's Palace. 
Two Sentinels mounting guard. 

1st Sent. I like not so small a share in this as obey- 
ing orders and keeping sharp watch ; there's something 
wrongful, to my mind, in aiding the captivity of a king. 

2d Sent. Thou thinkest, then, as a child of Belial. 
It is to me as a glorious privilege to be permitted humbly 
to hasten the downfal of a malignant, yea, even of a 
crowned dragon of unrighteousness. 

1st Sent. Thou wert ever sour; thy grace is musty, 
lacking exercise. 

2d Sent. Verily, thou art of the earth earthy. I tell 



CROMWELL. 



103 



thee, faint-hearted one, that when the watchword, u To 
your tents, O Israel ! " is heard in the highways and in 
the byways, yea, even on the mountain-tops, the sword 
shall smite the lukewarm and the backsliding, and cleave 
in twain the unclean. 

Enter Lockier. 

Lock. Headsman, ( 5 ) forsooth! and for my pains 
receive 
Some thrift'ly counted handful of a coin 
Whose impress shall remind me of the deed ; 
The king's own head reward the daring blow 
Which lopped it from its haughty throne of flesh. 
Your soft-grain'd Puritan can work for love ; 
That will not I, nor waste a thought on right 
Which comes not wooing to my private cause. 
Better to live by hidden craft than die 
By overt principle. Principle ! pshaw ! 
? Tis but a snare to springe your timid bird, 
While hawks and eagles sweep along unharm'd. 
Headsman, indeed ! The recompence ? — Your heart — 
Your conscience — patriot zeal, my good Lockier. — 
Bad paymasters, deep Noll, for me or thee, 
If I mistake not. True, the axe I'll bear ; 
But whether 't falls or not I leave to Fate ; 
My private views secure. To Cromwell now. [Exit. 

SCENE VII. 

An Apartment in St. James's Palace. Moonlight. Charles 
asleep in his chair. A Bible before him. 

Enter Herbert gently, approaches Charles, gazes 
affectionately at him. 

Herb. Bless'd be the sleep which seals those mournful 
eyes. 



104 CROMWELL. 

Mournful ! they leave all others far more so, 
By their mild majesty of grief — so mild, 
Midst loss of earthly ties ! The nearer death, 
The firmer views he takes. My dear, dear king, 
I love thee for thyself, so passing kind. 
Farewell ; I feel my heart will follow thee. [Exit. 

[Charles awakes and rises ; walks to the window. 
Ch. How clear the moon ! how bright the diamond 
specks 
Which stud the midnight sky ! How small are kings 
In nature's universal plan, when Fate, 
With horror charged enough to shake the earth, 
Hath not a corresponding blot on high. 
No type of death o'ershadows life eterne ; 
All is as tranquil there as though the age 
Were that of gold, when beauteous flocks were own'd 
By noblest men, and one wide smile array' d 
The features of the universe. My soul 
Itself now scarcely feels the pangs of death, 
But clings serenely to that future light 
Which dawns on it, and leaves the past in gloom. 
That light is of eternity, and, thus 
Surveying thee, thou beauteous lamp of night — 
Congenial element — it scans its home. 
Precursive splendour of an endless day, 
Beam in my mind, and chase its clouds away. 
I'll pray for further light beyond the grave, 
Bare my imprison'd soul, and mercy crave. 

[Slowly retires. 



SCENE VIII. 

An Apartment in Whitehall. The dawn. 
Cromwell alone. 

Crom. Power, thou motley idol of the soul, 



CROMWELL. 105 

Thou type of bondage ! from my aching heart, 
I love, yet loathe thee. From our earliest breath 
Thoir'rt mingled with the atmosphere of mind ; 
Thou shedd'st the glare of hope before our steps, 
To veil the gulf which yawns beneath our feet ; 
And when completion of the past desires — 
Schemes realised unto the latest point — 
Hopes full expanded into broad success — 
All dream'd-of joys converted into truths — 
When these and hosts of teeming fancies rise 
Embodied and fulfilled, thou'rt still afar, 
Far in the tempting distance of the mind. 
What is*t thou call'st thine own ? Our chain of fate, 
By gradual links achieved, still clanks its length ; 
The more we still achieve, the more remains, 
And power yet lingers in the morrow's breast. 
That we possess, the least we would desire ; 
To some new tyrant plea we onward leap 
With childhood's keen expectancy. — 

Enter Lockier. 

How now, Lockier ? 

Lock. Sir 

Cbom. Hast thou not thy task ? 

Or canst thou not the axe with freedom wield ? 
Why thus seen here ? I bade thee privacy 
Of all conjunction in this bloody deed : 
Why link our acts unto the curious eye ? 

Lock. I crave thy pardon, general, but I wish'd 
To learn thy latest thought. 

Crom. Thou hast — perform; 

What more ? 

Lock, [aside] I must disguise my fairer views, 
My urgency to be employed in this, 
By skilful doubts. 

Crom. What more? dost hesitate ? 



106 CROMWELL. 

Lock. Sir, I fain would quit this thankless duty. 

Cbom. Quit it, thou craven both of heart and mind ! 
The bold, unbent designs of godly men, 
The universal voice of the redeem' d, 
Find but a sorry instrument in thee. 
Craven ! that dost refuse a willing arm 
To purge a suffering land from infamy ; — 
Craven, and false of heart. 

Lock. Neither am I. 

Crom. The proof? 

Lock. 'Tis sad. Gen'ral, I fear myself, 

Lest pity 

Crom. Slave ! pity thyself, and die. 
Yet hold ; I will not wish thee ill, and fear 
That from my zealous love of right should spring 
Some source of aggravation unto thee, 
Whom ancient service hath attach' d to me ; 
Yea, thus it is that in the open heart 
Falsehood doth trace the dark career of sin. 
Be not thus rash, or rather, be less weak. 

Lock. I am a soldier, sir; no headsman. 

Crom. True ; 

Full well on Naseby's field thy sword did trace 
Thy valour. Yet is't no unworthy task 
To do the bidding of the state — to wield 
The patriot axe, and hew oppression down. 
Nor is the victim lowly ; his proud head 
Should nerve thine arm. Thou dost not slay a man, 
But dost annihilate a principle 
Bas'd on our abject natures — prone to cow'r. 
Wert thou a saintly one alone, I could 
From holy writ command obedience blind ; 
But as I know thee of the soundest sense, 
Albeit of softest mood, I'll hint to thee 
Of the great service and the fit reward; 
The service mask'd, the recompence secure. 



CROMWELL. 107 

Lock. Sir_, I intrust me to thy will. 

Crom. Thine own, 

Good Lockier, in a better mood will hail 
The privilege. 

Lock. Deal with me as thou wilt; 
Mine own unpractis'd judgment cannot scan 
The depths of right : if of this action come 
Reproof or punishment ? 

Crom. Cromwell's thy friend. — 

[Leading him to the door. Exit Lockier. 
This is not like Lockier ; he's wont to be 
More firm — less given to a falt'ring mind. . . . 
The morning's rapid dawn doth bid me hence. [Exit, 



SCENE IX. 

A Street near Whitehall. 

Enter Obadiah and Ephraim. 

Obad. I overheard them agree to meet here. Verily, 
I will not miss him this time, lest the spirit of poor 
Gracebegotten appear unto me. 

Eph. Should'st thou fail, I will be ready. They come. 
[They retire behind a building. 

Enter Edward and Lockier. 

Edw. The terms you do accept ? 

Lock. If you'll no more, 

I needs must close with you. 

Edw. Would Cromwell e'er 

Have made it up to you ? 

Lock. 'Tis true ; let's on 

To the arrangements. Cromwell still does place 
Reliance on me, and the axe is mine. 

Edw. That axe which should have lopt the nation's 
head 



1 08 CROMWELL. 

Shall now be England's safety. You will mind 
The signal^ and the Cavaliers at hand 
Will rush unto the rescue : Fairfax' aid 
Will not be wanting, when he finds the scheme 
So well on foot. 

Lock. But now for my reward ? 

Ob ad. Thou hast it, traitor ! 

[Fires at him. Obadiah and Ephraim escape. 
Lock. \_ falling] Ah ! my back's shot through ! 

[Edward attempts to pursue Obadiah, but 
Lockier stops him. 
Nay, never heed the arm that struck the blow ; 
It will not save me. Ha, 'tis not too late 
To do my latest good ! Sir Cavalier — 
Feel in my vest — a letter — save the king ! 

[Edward feels. 

The counterpart — to Cromwell damning scrawl ! 

Quick ! Nay, heed me not — I feel — oh ! oh ! oh ! [Dies. 

Edw. Unlucky blow ! my hopes again are fled. 
This letter — haste — to Cromwell 

Enter Fleetwood and Soldiers. 

Fleet, [sees body] Ha ! what's this ? 

[To soldiers'] Seize on that man — the murderer is he ! 

[Troops seize him. 
Whose form is this ? Lockier's ! — villain ! 

Edw. Nay, sir 

The villain fled. 

Fleet. Some, take the body up. 

[Troops take up the body. 
March ! and to speedy justice bring this knave. [Exeunt. 



CROMWELL. 109 

SCENE X. 

Interior of Whitehall. 
Cromwell pacing up and down. 

Crom. This throbbing pulse is surely not mine own ! 
It doth but ill accord with the firm heart 
Which yields its tide. [Listens] No noise ! were not the 

slaves 
With his own coin hired to curse their king ? 
Dare they refuse — or are their fickle hearts 
AwM by the twilight of a sinking king ? 
Lockier not here ! how's this ? Can he play false 
Who hangs but on my will for life or death ? 
He dare not fail. 

Enter a Soldier. 

Sol. Gen'ral, one craves without 

Admission to thy presence in great haste. 

Crom. Is't Lockier ? 

Sol. Nay, 'tis even one whose speech 

Betokens perturbation. 

Crom. Let him in ; 

Some urgent cause doth doubtless bring him here. 

[Exit Soldier. 

Enter Obadiah. 

Crom. How now ! art not a soldier? Wherefore here, 
When ev^ry arm awaits the deep event 
In faithful watch ? 

Obad. A soldier true I any, 

My gen'ral, even now returned from Death. 

Crom. Ah, speak not in parables ; deliver quick 
Thy urgent purpose. Lockier, Lockier, ho ! 

Obad. He will not hear thy voice. 

Crom. How, liar ? 



110 CROMWELL. 

Obad. >Tis true ! 

He lies, the penalty of sin, a corse ! 

Crom. What ! is Lockier slain ? Base fool, thou liest! 
An' thou infornx'st me of this fellow's death, 
Thine own shall quickly follow. 

Obad. Tis but truth ! 

And in his death the common safety lay ; 
For had he hVd, the Stuart had not died. 

Crom. What mystery is this ? by Heaven, speak out. 
Who slew him — say ? 

Obad. This arm. 

Crom. \_ furious] Joyce ! what, ho, Joyce ! 

Enter Joyce. 

Seize this assassin, drag him to his doom. 

Yet, hold. — What said'st thou of this Lockier's sin 

But now ? 

Obad. He did betray thee for the king. 

Crom. Ha ! say'st thou so ? 

Obad. In league with Cavaliers, 

He bargained for gold to stay the blow 
Until a well-plann'd rescue savM the king. 

Crom. Knave ! did he so ? — [To Joyce] Go, double 
all the guards. [Exit Joyce. 

Obad. I overheard his base conclusions well, 
And shot him for the common good. 

Crom. 5 Twas meet, .... 

Yet rashly done Soldiers, retire. — Draw near, 

Good man : forgiveness shall assoil this deed, 
If thou'lt but fill his place : deal thou the blow ! 
Go ask for Brandon — give him this [sits to write] . Fare- 
well. [Exeunt. 



CROMWELL- 



SCENE XI. 



Ill 



An Apartment in Whitehall. 
Enter Charles and Dr. Juxon. 

Jux. Sire, let me guide your steps unto that port 
Where all the dross and ballast of your frame 
Within the sinking vessel shall be lost, 
While the rich cargo of your quickened soul 
Floats on eternal hopes to heaves high throne. 

Ch. Good Juxon, thou hast been a faithful friend 
Unto mine erring life : thus from my death 
ThouMst steal the native horror of the blow 
Which summons the vast future. On my soul — 
My poor, eternity-bound soul — I feel 
I have not merited this death, if man 
Award it for my lack of faith with him. 
If *tis from God, my lack of faith with Him 
Doth merit twenty deaths. 

Jux. We all have sinn'd 

Against the mighty precepts of our lives, 
And should all trace the potent hand of Heav'n 
In the broad sheet of ill ; yet, sire, the world 
Oft ministers a bitter draught to those 
Who bear no plague-spot in the eye of Heav'n. 

Ch. Juxon, with all humility, and yet 
With all the fervour of an injur'd man, 
I swear that I have done no willing wrong 
Unto my people : would that I had kept 
My conscience full as clear in private case ! 
O Strafford ! thou dost rise within my mind 
A martyr to my cause ! 

Jux. Sire, let all thoughts 

That may unman you be suppress'd. This hour, 
Though pass'd on earth, belongs to heav'n. 

Ch. True, true. 



112 CROMWELL. 



Enter Fairfax 



Fair, [kneels] O sire, permit my tardy knee to 
bend 
Unto th' offended pow'r of majesty ! 
Permit my deepest anguish to assoil 
My own unwilling share in this dark deed. 

Ch. Lord gen'ral, rise ; the pow'r of majesty 
Has been dissolv'd on earth : in heav'n alone 
Doth it reside, and there it doth behove 
Us all to pay our tribute. 

Fair. O my liege ! 

When first my eager sword in tented field 
Essay'd. with stern conviction on its point, 

To work a people's freedom 

Ch. Ay, good lord, 

I do anticipate your speech ; let me 
Explain yourself unto yourself. Fairfax, 
I do absolve you from the later deed 
Which clothes in weeds all widow'd loyalty ; 
I do not think that you have will'd my death. 

Fair. My liege, I swear 

Ch. Nay, let me speak — my time 

Is shorter than contrition's lengthy tale. 
When first the heart of Fairfax was inspir'd 
By artful hints of evil governance 
And kingly rule outstepped, his wish was pure ; 
And e'en a monarch might forgive a fault 
So near akin to virtue. But thy will — 
And, good my lord, I say it not in hate, 
For, on the threshold of the gaping tomb, 
Sharp words are dire offences Against our state — 
Thy will, my lord, was ever on the swerve — 
Instable ; since thy better parts perceived 
That in the chastisements of kings do lurk 
The weal of nations, and in England's rod 



CROMWELL. 113 

Thou didst behold the rod of Aaron chang'd 
Unto wily serpents ; yet hadst thou still, 
Bound to the firmer wills of firmer men, 
Too little purpose to discard the ills 
Which crowded on, when hate and arrogance 
Combin'd to tear from England* s ancient brow 
The venerable crown. 

Fair. You wrong me, sire. 

Ch. Nay then, thy pardon, since a last offence, 
Before the close of life, is deeper far 
Than earlier : the odour of the tomb 
Should suffocate each passion-flower's life. 

Fair. Sire, e'en now I will not yield you up 
To fraud and violence. 

Ch. Indeed, my lord ! 

To snatch a victim from a yawning grave 
Is the prerogative of God and kings. 
Fair. You yet shall live. 

Ch. Does Heav'n say so, or man ? 

My lord, I pray you, trifle not with me : 
I fain would speak you fair; yet my bowM soul, 
About its severance from earth, might yield 
One spark of ire at being tamper'd with 
So near the goal. 

Fair. My liege, you yet shall live 

Ch. Hereafter ; I well know 't. 

Fair. Nay, sire, on earth ; 

For, by my Christian soul 

Ch. Fairfax, be still ; 

Thy Christian but disloyal soul doth err. 
'Tis well thou art a Christian ; for the base 
Of loyalty is Christianity : 
And so, true Christianity doth teach 
A perfect loyalty ; without this strict 
Reciprocation neither can exist ; 
Wherefore, as thou hast banish' d me from earth, 

i 



1 1 4 CROMWELL. 

And art a Christian still, thy loyalty 

Will hail the second Charles to England's throne. 

Farewell, my lord ; I freely pardon thee 

For all thou mayst unwittingly have wrought 

Against thy sov'reign's grey, discrowned head. 

Farewell ; bethink thee of my warning voice, 

And strive to gain a heav'n, and not an earth. 

[Exeunt Charles and Juxon. Fairfax re- 
mains stupefied. 
Fair, [clasping his hands'] Most noble king ! I have 
impeachment here, [Puts his hand on his heart. 
Deeper than that which did consign thy head 
Unto the hideous block. But haste, mine arm, 
To snatch great England's grace-anointed king 
From his and England's grave. [Rushes out. 



SCENE XII. 

Another Apartment in • Whitehall. 
Cromwell, Ireton, Fleetwood, Harrison. 

Crom. [gazing at the warrant for the execution] I'd 
rather die than have to do the like 
Again. I do protest, my weaker parts 
Of reason have recoiled from the act ; 
And but that visions have supported me — 
Visions distinctly pointing to the deed, 
And such plain testimonies to the truth 
Of the great cause, that I had been indeed 
A carnal seeker had I fallen back 

Ire. No fears, good gen'ral, need haunt thy mind. 

Crom. [hastily] None do ; yet can I not the woman- 
hood 
Which doth assail my heart fully withstand. 

Ire. Cromwell, on thee the eyes of the elect 



CROMWELL. Ill 

Are turned in the darkness which doth reign : 
Thou art the fiery pillar of our state, 
To guide our steps across the wilderness. 

Crom. Alas, I cannot guide mine own, which err 
Amidst my heart's devices ; and my faith, 
Albeit by illumination blest, 
Is slender for the mighty deeds we do ! 
We are the instruments of fate ; and men 
In thinking on our acts will e^er confound 
Our private wills and public duties. I 
Have sorely gone against my heart, but know 
'Tis full of craft and searching subtlety ; 
It fain would purge me of the godly sense 
Which doth pursue undeviating right, 
E'en to the detriment of peace. Fleetwood, 
Thou canst bear witness to the tears Fve shed 
In bringing me to this ; thou also know'st 
With what strong oath I constantly refresh 
My wavering spirit. , * 

Har. Cromwell, well I know 
Thy noble heart ; none can suspect thee e'er 
Of fainting in the godly cause. Fairfax., 
Backsliding Fairfax 

Crom. Nay, my good Harrison, 

Lord Fairfax is but weak, irresolute, 
And -overburden' d with a kindly heart, 
Which, unsupported by a righteous zeal, 
Doth now provoke an inconsistency 
At variance with the deep necessities 
Of the great cause, which cries for blood to seal 
The covenant of all our holy hopes. — 

Enter Fairfax agitated. 

Good my lord, well met. 

Fair. Ill met, sir gen'ral ! 

No friendly greeting can escape these lips, 



116 CROMWELL. 

While death prowls round about us for his prey ; 
And what a prey, great God ! 

Ire. My lord, thy voice, 

Which sounded not in Israel when death 
Was only in the future, now is rais'd 
In futile censure of the laws. 

Fair. The laws ! 

The laws of God and man are outraged both. 

Ire. *Tis true ; they are, and by thy recreant voice. 
Fair. Ha, bold man ! [Seizing his sword. 

Ire. Nay, grasp not thy traitor sword. 

Fair. Art mad, to brave me thus ? 
Ire. Not mad, my lord, 

But zealous for the cause thou hast betray'd. 

Fair. Ireton, this insolence of thine 

Ire. My lord, 

My insolence doth savour more of truth 
Than thy apostasy of courage. 

Fair. Hold ! 

Let me whip this taunting spirit from thee. 

{They draw. Cromwell suddenly interposes. 
Crom. Men of wrath, give way, in Heav'n's sacred 
name ! 
Is there not death enough upon the hour, 
But you would make a holocaust for him 
Who dies the death of sin ? [Fairfax offers to speak.] 
Fairfax, for shame ! 

Fair. Cromwell 

Crom. [vehemently] Hear me, faint-hearted lord, I say. 
[Solemnly] I charge thee, by the depths of thine own soul, 
By thy redemption from the carnal world, 
And all thy future hopes, nigh forfeited, 
To hear me, and to ponder well on that 
Which the Eternal Judge now bids me say. 
Flee from the dark polluted source of shame, 
Which the arch enemy, the evil one, 



CROMWELL. 117 

Hath open'd in thy heart ; avoid its taint, 

And cast thy filmed eyes unto the light 

Of Zion, even that it may restore 

The eye-balls of thy wonted holiness. 

[Ardently] Fairfax, I do beseech, on bended knee, 

[Kneels. 
That thou wilt guard thyself 'gainst damning sin. 

Fair, [moved'] Rise, Cromwell ! 

[Hides his face with his hands. 

Crom. Lord Fairfax, no ! nor will I, 

Until I see thee snatched from pending death. 
By bleeding England's wounds, I charge thee hear 
Mine agonised voice : turn not away 
From the near consummation of the cause 
Which snatchM thee from perdition. Would'st thou 

plunge 
The half-sav'd country in the threat' ning gulf ? 
Backward we cannot go : the kingly rule 
Annull'd — the king a shadow of himself, 
Without a court, a camp, a single prop 
Which could oppose the nation's weight. Return 
Is then impossible, unless thou seek'st 
To reperuse the bloody tome of Fate, 
And pluck some direr tale from out its page : 
E'en then thy fresh-born soul could not discard 
The promptings of its law ; and thou would'st fall 
In the deep snare of Satan, to avoid 

A timely lesson and a useful doom. [Rises. 

[Takes his hanoY] Onwards, good Fairfax, let us humbly 

Not confident in worldly strength, but arm'd 

With the strong sword of truth, and with the shield 

Of righteous endurance. Good my lord, 

Retire awhile with Harrison in prayer ; 

It will refresh thy feverM soul. — My friend, 

[To Harrison. 



1 1 8 CROMWELL. 

Accompany the good lord general ; 

Thy gift of pray r will soothe our brother here. 

Fair, [humbly'] Cromwell, thou hast ascendancy with 
me — 
I trust for good. Yet, promise me some sign 
Before the deed is done : I do protest 
Strongly against it. 

Crom. Thou wilt hear the bell 

Which notes th' approach of death. 

Fair. Cromwell, 'tis well. 

I will retire awhile ; but mind — the sign. 

[Exeunt Harrison and Fairfax. 

Crom. [to Ireton] Give orders, Ireton, that the bell 
be struck 
Before the execution ; but, d^ye mind, 
So shortly let it be before, that man 
Though wing'd could scarcely fly the space 
^Twixt life and death. [Exit Ireton.] — I will not thus 

be turn'd 
From what I do believe is Heav'n's own will 
By the frail sophistries of fearful men : 
And, doubly armM as instrument of Fate, 
My great commission and my fixed will 
Urge me to quell all worldly feelings still. 

Fleet. WilPt please you see the prisoner of whom 
I spake but now ? 

Crom. Thou didst say something, true, 

Concerning Lockier's death. 

Fleet. This man did slay 

Crom. E^en now I learnt to know the one who slew 
Lockier, and did approve the act. Release 
This man. — 

[Exit Fleetwood ; Cromwell paces up and down. 
The time is near, and still no cries. 
Yet hold, mine ear 



CROMWELL. 119 

Enter Joyce. 

Crom. What would'st thou ? speak. 

Joyce. Gen' rah. 

Already murmurs cleave the humid air, 
Which dully moans athwart the lowering clouds. 

Crom. [hastily] Would'st have the clouds hard- 
hearted, and look bright 
As on a festival ? Would'st have me weep ? 
Tongue business of more import, or begone ! 

{Exit Joyce. 
[Obadiah, masked, with the axe, and his Assistant, 
cross the back of the Stage. 

Enter Fleetwood. 

Fleet. The youth desires in strongest terms to see 
Cromwell or Fairfax. Wilt thou, then, see him ? 

Crom. Truly; for not a word is valueless, 
When time's extremities do conjure ill. — 

[Exit Fleetwood. 
[Herbert crosses the back of the Stage with the 
Royal Children, weeping. 
I know not why I cling to ev'ry thing 
Which bears the faintest doubt. Hither he comes. 

Enter on one side Fleetwood and Edward ; on the other, 
Ireton. 

Edw. Gen'ral, a dying wretch did crave me give 
This letter to thyself. It doth contain 
A mighty secret, by the urgent tone 

With which his death-seal' d accents strove. [Gives letter. 

[The first bell sounds. All start. 

Mrs. Cleypole rushes in, and kneels to Cromwell. 

Mrs. C. O sir ! in mercy stay this fearful act: 
Dare not thus tempt th' eternal wrath, which hangs 



120 CROMWELL. 

Suspended o^er this guilty land. One word 
May close the gaping tomb of England's weal. 

Crom. Woman, begone ! eternal justice hails 
This consummation of our wrongs and hopes. 
Mercy were death, which mercy is to him, 
Who liv'd but to increase each swollen sin. 

Mrs. C. Father ! I feel I'm dying, yet would speak 
Once more with thee, although the hand of death 
Should choke my speech 

Crom. Nay, foolish child; — away! 

[Looks at letter, and is horror-struck. 
Great God ! can this be true ? It then was forg'd ! 

Enter Fairfax, hastily followed by Harrison. 

Fair. Such prayer but mocks my heart : I'll hear no 
more. 
More gracious is the saving act than saintly word. 
Nay, Harrison, detain me not ! He yet 
Shall live ! — Cromwell, beware ! — God help the King ! 

[Fairfax and Edward rush forward to proceed 
to the King, when the second bell loudly tolls. 
Murmurs outside. Cromwell, gazing on the 
letter, sinks into his chair, and Mrs. Cleypole 
falls at his feet. Lord Fairfax covers his face, 
Edward kneels, and bows his head. Ireton 
and Harrison look sternly at Cromwell and 
Fairfax. Muffled drums. Curtain falls. 






END OF THE FIFTH ACT. 



EPILOGUE. 



Though stern the temper of the time, yet tears 
Bedew'd the martyr' d sov'reign's gory bier ; 
Whilst crime, yet reeking with a monarch's blood, 
Rais'd the dissever'd head to pity's view. 
The deep, sad groan, when swung the fatal axe, 
Resounds through Time, and fancy still depicts 
A nation's shudder at a felon blow. 

Though weak my pencil to provoke the sigh, 

Or loose the trembling tear, O gently dwell 

Upon the too historic scene. No grief 

Is deepen'd by a skilful phrase ; no deed 

Enhanc'd in horror by a graphic touch ; 

No tyrant shielded, and no traitor spar'd ; 

No public vice subdu'd to court the crowd ; 

No nation's virtues dimm'd to please a court. 

To others, brighter starr'd, I leave the task 

Of treading deeper in the maze of thought, 

To trace each cause throughout the winding track 

Of multiform effect, and to the mind 

Expose the wondrous myst'ries of the heart. 

Nature's redeeming stamp, deep set in man,, 
Leaves not to passion everlasting sway : 
The tempest rages with its whirlwind brief; 
Dread havoc bursts his bonds, and rules a span ; — 
Soon smiling peace returns, and smooths the brow 
Of suff'ring earth, whom gentlest gales refresh, 
Wafting each wand'ring joy back to its home. 

Long had the servile British senate cring'd 
Beneath prerogative corruptly claim'd ; 



122 EPILOGUE. 

The voice of Freedom tardily was heard 

Within those walls where monarchs' wills had rul'd : 

The time-worn scales fell from the nation's eyes, 

And Liberty burst forth, with accents wild ; 

Tempting the monarch with a tyrant wish, 

And muttering treason in the subject's ear. 

In Charles's fate a fearful moral lies : — 

An unopposed sceptre fill'd his palm, 

And right increas'd in measure by the love 

Which fresh'ning hopes had taught the people yield ; 

But pride, that ample treasury of kings, 

Fed in the secrecy of swollen state — 

Pride min'd the tow'ring fabric of his state, 

And fiery faction charr'd the sinking throne. 

The deep devotion of the Cavalier, 

Arous'd to save his king, his church, his all, 

Sternly refus'd to bate a single point 

Of antique form to screen a modern rule : 

The moody Puritan, with equal zeal, 

O'erwrought each pious purpose, and transform'd 

The rod of conscience into reason's scourge. 

Wild with opposing views, the ardent hosts 

Met with a fearful shock, and crush'd the crown. 

Rights gain'd by passion teem with greatest wrong ; 

The means suspicious, and the end unblest. 

Time urges change, yet should each added want 

No precedent of violence bequeath, 

To sear the future with the branded past. 

Long may the Genius of our native land 

Approving watch our efforts in the task 

Of self-improvement. May our Sov'reign's cause 

Be like her gracious self — spotless and fair, 

And link'd in unity with public weal ; 

Long may th' accordant nation strongly feel, 

Within the temple of its noble heart, 

The vestal fire of chasten'd Loyalty ! 



NOTES. 



THE FIRST ACT. 

Note 1, p. 2. — The Levellers insisted on a most convenient 
equality of temporal property, whilst the Fifth-Monarchy men 
were for the dissolution of worldly powers, to pave the way for the 
second coming of the Messiah. The term, " Fifth-Monarchy men," 
implied the reign of the saints succeeding the four dominations of 
Assyria, Egypt, Greece, and Rome. 

Note 2, p. 2. — The Presbyterian party in the House of Commons, 
wishing to deal a blow upon their rivals the Independents, proposed 
to send a large portion of a troublesome army to Ireland, and to 
disband the remainder. The natural dislike of the troops to this 
service was increased by the efforts of the Independent leaders, 
who had formed the plan of crushing their opponents; a plan 
which, as the sequel proved, was well founded and subtilely con- 
ducted. The arrears of pay clue to the army was no feeble argu- 
ment in skilful discourses, where it was intermixed with hints of 
the ungodliness of mere hirelings. 

Note 3, p. 4. — A steeple, savouring of Episcopacy, was odious 
to the tender-eyed Puritans. 

Note 4, p. 6. — Sell a king ! An admirable burlesque of delicacy 
distinguished this thorough business-like transaction. The Scots, 
who had invaded England to assist their co-religionists, and to whom 
the king had surrendered, offered to give the king to the Parliament, 
if the latter would give them, in two instalments, 400,000/. ; but it 
was to be distinctly understood that the money had no reference to 
the king. The king was only a malignant — they were the godly of 
the earth. 

Note 5, p. 7. — Of course the profane scenes of Will Shakspeare 
could not be endured, when even the poor May-pole was abolished 
as savouring of folly. 

Note 6, p. 8. — Hume relates, that when the business-like trans- 
action noticed above was broken to the king, he was at chess, and 
that he bore the announcement with the utmost complacency ; even 
playfully remarking upon the state of the old Earl of Pembroke 
after the journey. 

Note 7, p. 10. — A portion of Cromwell's house is reported to 
exist in the One Tun Inn, near Hungerford Market. The rooms 
have been divided ; the staircase is nearly the same. 



124 NOTES. 

Note 8, p. 10. — The Presbyterians were sufficient Reformers; it 
remained for the Independents to outbid them in Radicalism. The 
former only bought the king and kept him close prisoner ; the latter 
beheaded him. 

Note 9, p. 10. — Ireton had previously been a lawyer. 

Note 10, p. 11. — This list includes the leaders of the Presbyterian 
party, who were subsequently sacrificed to the swelling power of the 
Independents. 

Note 11, p. 12. — That plan was to obtain possession of the king's 
person, and thus be enabled to baffle the Presbyterians, by making 
terms with the sovereign. 

Note 12, p. 12. — Holdenby, or Holmby, near Althorp, North- 
amptonshire. 

Note 13, p. 13. — Cromwell and Fairfax afterwards disavowed the 
seizure. 

Note 14, p. 13. — The Earl of Warwick was Lord High Admiral. 
This letter is part of an original in the British Museum. 

Note 15, p. 14. — I have taken the liberty, for the sake of the 
ladies and love, to give Lord Fairfax a niece. My excuse is, that 
he may have had one ; and this posthumous relation cannot affect 
the good Lord General, whilst it aids me considerably in the con- 
struction of an underplot. 

Note 16, p. 16. — Edward is a devoted Cavalier ; Constance is 
the niece of a Puritan, but the daughter of the Royalist Veres of 
Tilbury. 

Note 17, p. 18. — The Venice glass was an indispensable appendage 
at the tables of the middle ages, since it was supposed to possess 
the quality of announcing the presence of poison in liquids by a 
continued fermentation, or by its being shivered to pieces on re- 
ceiving the subtle fluid. 



THE SECOND ACT. 

Note 1, p. 21. — The Earl of Essex, the Parliamentarian general, 
who was subsequently disgraced. His death took place whilst 
Charles was the Scots' prisoner at Newcastle ; but I have taken the 
liberty of preventing the news from reaching him before. 

Note 2, p. 21. — Prince Charles (Charles II.) was in Holland at 
this period, endeavouring to support his father's cause by making 
occasional diversions by sea in his favour. A portion of the Nore 
fleet mutinied, and sailed to join him, thus enabling him to throw 
supplies into the various Royalist castles which remained faithful. 



NOTES. 125 

Note 3, p. 22. — I may perhaps be excused for making these 
gentlemen Commissioners, from a fear of swelling my Dramatis 
Persona. They might also have proved sinecurists without this 
arrangement. 

Note 4, p. 24. — The Parliament had dismissed the king's chap- 
lains, and forbidden the attendance of his friends and servants. 
Charles, in consequence, refused the proffered services of two Pres- 
byterian clergymen sent him by his oppressors. 

Note 5, p. 26. — Charles's own words, slightly altered. 
Note 6, p. 27.— Henrietta Maria left England 14th July, 1644, 
after the disastrous battle of Marston Moor. Taking with her the 
crown jewels, she sought refuge at the French court. 

Note 7, p. 29. — Denton Castle, the seat of Lord Fairfax. 
Note 8, p. 29. — The morbid imagination and temperament of 
Cromwell, united with his deep-seated views of religion, were not 
unlikely to enhance the effect of a dream, moulded according to the 
tenour of his mind. 

Note 9, p. 31. — It must be recollected that Cromwell's diction 
was generally laboured and obscure. 

Note 10, p. 33. — Cromwell endeavoured to obtain the consent of 
his superior in command, that the responsibility might be transferred 
to him. 

Note 11, p. 35. — Until his plans were ripe, Cromwell refused not 
even tears to blind the adverse party. He deplored, with the deepest 
apparent sincerity, that turbulence on the part of the army which 
he had been chiefly instrumental in fomenting. He was, however, 
at length suspected ; and on learning that he was the next day to 
be impeached and sent to the Tower, he hastened to the camp, and 
was invested with supreme command, upon which he marched to- 
wards London. 

Note 12, p. 38.— Triplo, or Triplow Heath, eight miles south of 
Cambridge. 

Note 13, p. 38. The Presbyterian party wished to send a por- 
tion of the army to Ireland, and disband the remainder. The soldiers 
in consequence petitioned that an indemnity, ratified by the king, 
might absolve them from any illegal actions in the course of the 
war ; that arrears of pay might be granted ; that widows and maimed 
soldiers might be pensioned ; and that their pay should be continued 
till they were disbanded. The army subsequent!}^, on the refusal of 
the House to receive the petition, erected itself into a counter tri- 
bunal, and voted the conduct of Parliament adverse to the interests 
of the soldiery. The opportune seizure of Charles at Holmby turned 
the balance in favour of the military dictators. 
Note 14. p. 39. — An authentic document. 



126 NOTES. 



THE THIRD ACT. 

Note 1, p. 42. — The army, which we left in the last Act on the 
point of marching to London to coerce the Parliament, halted at 
St. Alban's, until, being apparently satisfied with the expulsion of 
the leaders of the Presbyterian party, it retired to Reading, near 
which was the mansion of Caversham, where the king was lodged 
in comparative comfort. 

Note 2, p. 43. — I must beg the reader's pardon for retaining in 
my service Hollis, Massey, and Waller, who were amongst the 
Presbyterian leaders that retired from the House previous to the 
retreat of the army to Reading. 

Note 3, p. 44. — The Self-denying ordinance was a resolution of 
the Commons, by which the members of the two Houses were pro- 
hibited from holding civil or military situations, a few alone ex- 
cepted. This act was levelled at the Lords, who were not, however, 
powerful enough to oppose it. Cromwell should have been in- 
cluded ; but Fairfax, who was appointed general, managed by a 
stratagem to retain the services of the future Protector. 

Note 4, p. 53. — Edward is dressed as a Puritan. 

Note 5, p. 57. — Charles, during the negotiations with the army 
and Parliament, offered Cromwell the command of the army, the 
garter, and the earldom of Essex. 

Note 6, p. 59. — The Duke of York (James II.) had escaped to 
the Continent. 

Note 7, p. 60. — James I. called his son Charles " Baby Charles" 
to a late period; and it is not improbable that family pet-names may 
be hereditarily transmitted. 

THE FOURTH ACT. 

Note 1, p. 66. — The army returned to England during the treaty 
of Newport. 

Note 2, p. 71. — The costume of the Puritans. 

Note 3, p. 71. — This notorious usurer amassed enormous wealth 
by the minor crooked practices of the law. He began worth 200/., 
and died worth 400,0007. By the extinction of the Court of Wards 
he lost upwards of 100,000Z. 

Note 4, p. 71. — An allusion to the abolition of the old modes of 
Exchequer business, and the establishment of a secret and irre- 
sponsible committee. 

Note 5, p. 74. — Manchester and Lenthal, the Speakers of the 
two Houses of Parliament, attended by eight Peers and sixty Com- 
moners, left London, and sought protection from the army at 



NOTES. 127 

Hounslow, in consequence of attempts at coercion on the part of 
the London mob in the affair of the militia. They were brought 
back to London by the army August 6th, and the sway of the Inde- 
pendents confirmed. The king was then lodged at Hampton Court, 
whence he escaped November 11th, and ultimately took refuge in 
the Isle of Wight, where he was detained close prisoner in Caris- 
brooke Castle until the Treaty of Newport, which ended in all nego- 
tiations being broken off with the persecuted monarch. 

Note 6, p. 77. — The malignity and vulgarity of modern political 
warfare, as displayed by the secret champions of the press, is sunk 
into absolute insipidity compared with the editorial effusions of 
the middle of the seventeenth century. A perusal of the collections 
of papers of that period in the British Museum will confirm a belief 
in the fatal effects of literary license. Amongst the titles of these 
elegant periodicals are the following : — Mercurius Melancholicus ; 
Mercurius Pragmaticus ; Mercurius Elencticus ; A perfect Diurnall 
of some passages in Parliament j the Parliament Porter, or the 
Doorkeeper of the House of Commons ; The Perfect Weekly Ac- 
count ; The Parliament Kite, or the Tell-tale Bird, printed in the 
year of the Saints' fear 1648 ; The Packet of Letters from Scotland 
and the Northern parts 5 the Moderate Intelligencer, &c. 

Note 7, p. 77. — This elegant distich headed a leading article in 
the Royalist journal. 

Note 8, p, 78. — A feeble specimen of Royalist vituperation. 

Note 9, p. 80. — Although this story is found in contemporaneous 
memoirs, I felt unwilling to brand the memory of Charles with so 
deep a piece of Jesuitism; yet I wished to avail myself of the cir- 
cumstance as a dramatic incident, in a play where the chief element 
of success — surprise, was denied me, inasmuch as the catastrophe 
was foreknown, and I could not very conveniently terminate with 
an anti-historical reprieve for the ill-fated Charles, however pleasant 
it may be for novel-readers to find all end happily. With this view 
I permitted Lockier to forge the letter, and Cromwell to believe it 
real. All the unroyal thoughts and expressions in the letter must 
be set down to the score of Lockier and the author. 

Note 10, p. 86. — The king had been brought from Hurst to 
Windsor by Colonel Harrison. He was thence transferred to St. 
James's, January 19th, 1649. 

Note 11, p. 88. — I have taken the liberty of attributing to Sir 
Philip an original saying of the period, found in the Mercurius 
Pragmaticus, January 9th. 

Note 12, p. 88. — The procession and proclamation are extracted 
from the papers of the day. On the 9th January the ceremony took 
place in Westminster Hall, at the old Exchange, and in Cheapside. 



9& 



128 NOTES. 

Note 13, p. 89. — In the original document it is 1648. Perhaps 
it was drawn up the latter part of December. The ordinance was 
read in the House January 4th, 1649. 

THE FIFTH ACT. 

Note 1, p. 92. — It is reported that this high-spirited lady was 
present during the trial in Westminster Hall, and that when the 
name of Lord Fairfax was called, she replied that "he had more 
wit than to be there ; and that, upon her also exclaiming that not 
a tenth part of the people of England approved of the bold act, 
she was in danger of being fired at by the soldiers, who had received 
orders to shoot the unseen interrupter from a side-box." 

Note 2, p. 93. — The king was brought from Windsor to St. 
James's, January 19th, 1649, and thence in a sedan to Whitehall, 
and by water to Cotton House. The trial lasted till the 23d, when 
the sentence was passed. Charles slept at St. James's the night be- 
fore his execution, and in the morning walked, with drums beating 
and colours flying, across the Park to the Banqueting-house, accom- 
panied by Dr. Juxon, Colonel Tomlinson, a private guard of par- 
tisans, and his gentlemen bareheaded. In the school-histories the 
painfulness of the monarch's situation is increased by a melo-dra- 
matic scene of his last night being rendered sleepless, owing to the 
noise of framing the scaffold beneath his apartment at Whitehall. 
It was erected between Whitehall-gate and the gate leading into the 
gallery from St. James's. 

Note 3, p. 98. — Some of the slanders of the day tended to impute 
the death of James I. to his son, whilst others taxed the Duke of 
Buckingham with this crime. 

Note 4, p. 99. — William Lilly, the celebrated astrologer, born 
1602, died 1681. 

Note 5, p. 103. — Although Brandon is the received name of the 
executioner, this unenviable functionary having been masked, I 
have a right to my own surmises. Concerning his identity, the 
papers of the day afford no clue that I have been able to discover ; 
and although the ordinary histories make the assistant-executioner 
exclaim, " Behold the head of a traitor," the contemporary journals 
expressly say that they uttered not a word on the melancholy occa- 
sion. Between one and two Charles appeared upon the scaffold ; 
and in the Moderate Intelligencer, from Thursday, January 25, to 
Thursday, February 1, 1649, is the following: — "To a gentleman 
whose cloak brushed the axe, Charles said, ' Sir, do not you hurt 
the axe, though it may hurt me.' " 



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